THE 
CITY 
OF  FIRE 

GRACE  LIVINGSTON  HILL 

(Mrs.  LUTZ) 


■ERKELeV 

LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/cityoffireOOhillrich 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 


MARILYN   WAS    AT   THE    ORGAN   AND   MARK   BY    HER   SIDE 

Page  329 


THE  CITY  OF 

FIRE 

BY 

GRACE  LIVINGSTON|HILL 

(MRS.  LUTZ) 

AUTHOR  OF 

MARCIA  SCHUYLER, 

THE  ENCHANTED  BARN, 

THE  TRYST,  Etc. 

\ 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS                  NEW 

YORK 

1 

Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY  PEOPLES  MONTHLY  COMPANY 
COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY  J,  3.  UPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 


Sabbath  Valley  lay  like  a  green  jewel  cupped  in 
the  hand  of  the  surrounding  mountains  with  the  morning 
sun  serene  upon  it  picking  out  the  clean  smooth  streets, 
the  white  houses  with  their  green  bhnds,  the  maples  with 
their  clear  cut  leaves,  the  cosy  brick  school  house  wide 
winged  and  friendly,  the  vine  clad  stone  church,  and  the 
little  stone  bungalow  with  low  spreading  roof  that  was 
the  parsonage.  The  word  manse  had  not  yet  reached  the 
atmosphere.  There  were  no  affectations  in  Sabbath  Valley. 

Billy  Gaston,  two  miles  away  and  a  few  degrees  up  the 
mountain  side,  standing  on  the  little  station  platform  at 
Pleasant  View,  waiting  for  the  morning  train  looked  down 
upon  the  beauty  at  his  feet  and  felt  its  loveliness  blindly. 
A  passing  thrill  of  wonder  and  devotion  fled  through  his 
fourteen-year-old  soul  as  he  regarded  it  idly.  Down  there 
was  home  and  all  his  interests  and  loyalty.  His  eyes  dwelt 
affectionately  on  the  pointing  spire  and  bell  tower.  He 
loved  those  bells,  and  the  one  who  played  them,  and  under 
their  swelling  tones  had  been  awakened  new  thoughts  and 
lofty  purposes.  He  knew  they  were  lofty.  He  was  not 
yet  altogether  sure  that  they  were  his,  but  they  were  there 
in  his  mind  for  him  to  think  about,  and  there  was  a  strange 
awesome  lure  about  their  contemplation. 

Down  the  platform  was  the  new  freight  agent,  a  thick- 
set, rubber-shod  individual  with  a  projecting  lower  jaw 
and  a  lowering  countenance.  He  had  lately  arrived  to 
assist  the  regular  station  agent,  who  lived  in  a  bit  of  a 
shack  up  the  mountain  and  was  a  thin  sallow  creature 
with  sad  eyes  and  no  muscles,   Pleasant  View  was  abso- 

.  :     725 


«  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

lutely  what  it  stated,  a  pleasant  view  and  nothing  else. 
The  station  was  a  well  weathered  box  that  blended  into 
the  mountain  side  imnoticeably,  and  did  not  spoil  the 
view.  The  agent's  cabin  was  hidden  by  the  trees  and  did 
not  count.  But  Pleasant  View  was  important  as  a  station 
because  it  stood  at  the  intersection  of  two  lines  of  thread 
like  tracks  that  slipped  among  the  mountains  in  different 
directions ;  one  winding  among  the  trees  and  about  a  clear 
mountain  lake,  carried  guests  for  the  summer  to  and  fro, 
and  great  quantities  of  baggage  and  freight  from  afar ;  the 
other  travelled  through  long  tunnels  to  the  world  beyond 
and  linked  great  cities  like  jewels  on  a  chain.  There  were 
lieavy  bales  and  boxes  and  many  trunks  to  be  shifted  and 
it  was  obvious  that  the  sallow  station  agent  could  not  do  it 
all.  The  heavy  one  had  been  sent  to  help  him  through  the 
rush  season. 

In  five  minutes  more  the  train  would  come  from  around 
the  mountain  and  bring  a  swarm  of  ladies  and  children 
for  the  Hotel  at  the  Lake.  They  would  have  to  be  helped 
off  with  all  their  luggage,  and  on  again  to  the  Lake  train, 
which  would  back  up  two  minutes  later.  This  was  Billy's 
harvest  time.  He  could  sometimes  make  as  much  as  fifty 
cents  or  even  seventy-five  if  he  struck  a  generous  party, 
just  being  generally  useful,  carrying  bags  and  marshalling 
babies.  It  was  important  that  Billy  should  earn  some- 
thing for  it  was  Saturday  and  the  biggest  ball  game  of 
the  season  came  off  at  Monopoly  that  afternoon.  Billy 
could  manage  the  getting  there,  it  was  only  ten  miles  away, 
but  money  to  spend  when  he  arrived  was  more  than  a 
necessity.    Saturday  was  always  a  good  day  at  the  station. 

Billy  had  slipped  into  the  landscape  unseen.  His 
rusty,  trusty  old  bicycle  was  parked  in  a  thick  huckleberry 
^growth  just  below  the  grade  of  the  tracks,  and  Billy  him- 
self stood  in  the  shelter  of  several  immense  packing  boxes 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  7 

piled  close  to  the  station.  It  was  a  niche  just  big  enough 
for  his  wiry  young  length  with  the  open  station  window 
close  at  his  ear.  From  either  end  of  the  platform  he 
was  hidden,  which  was  as  it  should  be  until  he  got  ready 
to  arrive  with  the  incoming  train. 

The  regular  station  agent  was  busy  checking  a  high 
pile  of  trunks  that  had  come  down  on  the  early  Lake  train 
from  the  Hotel  and  had  to  be  transferred  to  the  New  York 
train.  He  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  station  and  some 
distance  down  the  platform. 

Beyond  the  packing  boxes  the  heavy  one  worked  with 
brush  and  paint  marking  some  barrels.  If  Billy  applied  an 
eye  to  a  crack  in  his  hiding  place  he  could  watch  every 
stroke  of  the  fat  black  brush,  and  see  the  muscles  in  the 
swarthy  cheeks  move  as  the  man  mouthed  a  big  black 
cigar.  But  Billy  was  not  interested  in  the  new  freight 
agent,  and  remained  in  his  retreat,  watching  the  brilliant 
sunshine  shimmer  over  the  blue-green  haze  of  spruce  and 
pine  that  furred  the  way  down  to  the  valley.  He  basked 
in  it  like  a  cat  blinking  its  content.  The  rails  were  begin^ 
ning  to  hum  softly,  and  it  would  not  be  long  till  the 
train  arrived. 

Suddenly  Billy  was  aware  of  a  shadow  looming. 

The  heavy  one  had  laid  down  his  brush  and  was 
stealing  swiftly,  furtively  to  the  door  of  the  station  with  a 
weather  eye  to  the  agent  on  his  knees  beside  a  big  trunk 
writing  something  on  a  check.  Billy  drew  back  like  a 
turtle  to  his  shell  and  listened.  The  rail  was  beginning  to 
sing  decidedly  now  and  the  telephone  inside  the  grated 
window  suddenly  sat  up  a  furious  ringing.  Billy's  eye 
came  round  the  corner  of  the  window,  scanned  the  empty 
platform,  glimpsed  the  office  desk  inside  and  the  weighty 
figure  holding  the  receiver,  then  vanished  enough  to  be 
out  of  sight,  leaving  only  a  wide  curious  ear  to  listen : 


8  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"That  you  Sam?  Yep.  Nobody  about.  Train's 
coming.  Hustle  up.  Anything  doing?  You  don't  say! 
Some  big  guy?  Say,  that's  good  news  at  last!  Get  on 
the  other  wire  and  hold  it.  I'll  come  as  quick  as  the  train's 
gone.    S'long!" 

Billy  cocked  a  curious  eye  like  a  flash  into  the  window 
and  back  again,  ducking  behind  the  boxes  just  in  time 
to  miss  the  heavy  one  coming  out  with  an  excited  air,  and 
a  feverish  eye  up  the  track  where  the  train  was  coming  into 
view  around  the  curve. 

In  a  moment  all  was  stir  and  confusion,  seven  women 
wanting  attention  at  once,  and  imperious  men  of  the  world 
crying  out  against  railroad  regulations.  Billy  hustled 
everywhere,  transferring  bags  and  suit  cases  with  in- 
credible rapidity  to  the  other  train,  which  arrived 
promptly,  securing  a  double  seat  for  the  fat  woman  with 
the  canary,  and  the  poodle  in  a  big  basket,  depositing  the 
baggage  of  a  pretty  lady  on  the  shady  side,  making  him- 
self generally  useful  to  the  opulent  looking  man  with  the 
jewelled  rings;  and  back  again  for  another  lot.  A  whole 
dollar  and  fifteen  cents  jingled  in  his  grimy  pocket  as 
the  trains  finally  moved  off  in  their  separate  directions 
and  the  peace  of  Pleasant  View  settled  down  monoton- 
ously once  more. 

Billy  gave  a  hurried  glance  about  him.  The  station 
agent  was  busy  with  another  batch  of  trunks,  but  the 
heavy  one  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  He  gave  a  quick  glance 
through  the  grated  window  where  the  telegraph  instru- 
ment was  clicking  away  sleepily,  but  no  one  was  there. 
Then  a  stir  among  the  pines  b^low  the  track  attracted  his 
attention,  and  stepping  to  the  edge  of  the  bank  he  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  broad  dusty  back  lumbering  hurriedly 
down  among  the  branches. 

With  a  flirt  of  his  eye  back  to  the  absorbed  station 
agent  Billy  was  off  down  the  mountain  after  the  heavy 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  9 

one,  walking  stealthily  as  any  cat,  pausing  in  alert  atten- 
tion, listening,  peering  out  eerily  whenever  he  came  to  a 
break  in  the  undergrowth.  Like  a  young  mole  burrowing 
he  wove  his  way  under  branches  the  larger  man  must 
have  turned  aside,  and  so  his  going  was  as  silent  as  the  air. 
Now  and  then  he  could  hear  the  crash  of  a  broken  branch 
or  the  crackle  of  a  twig,  or  the  rolling  of  a  stone  set  free  by 
a  heavy  foot,  but  he  went  on  like  a  cat,  like  a  little  wood 
shadow,  till  suddenly  he  felt  he  was  almost  upon  his  prey. 
Then  he  paused  and  listened. 

The  man  was  kneeling  just  below  him.  He  could  hear 
the  labored  breathing.  There  was  a  curious  sound  of 
metal  and  wood,  of  a  key  turning  in  a  lock.  Billy  drew 
himself  softly  into  a  group  of  cypress  and  held  his  breath. 
Softly  he  parted  the  foliage  and  peered.  The  man  was 
down  upon  his  knees  before  a  rough  box,  holding  some- 
thing in  his  hand  which  he  put  to  his  ear.  Billy  could  not 
quite  see  what  it  was.  And  now  the  man  began  to  talk 
into  the  box.    Billy  ducked  and  listened : 

''  Hello,  Sam !  You  there !  Couldn't  come  any 
quicker,  lots  of  passengers.  Lots  of  freight.  What's 
doing,  anyhow  ?  " 

Billy  could  hear  a  faint  murmur  of  words,  now  and 
then  one  gutteral  burst  out  and  became  distinct,  and 
gradually  enough  words  pieced  themselves  together  to 
become  intelligible. 

" Rich  guy!    High  power  machine 

Great  catch  ....  Tonight !  .  .  .  .  Got  a  bet  on  to  get 
there  by  sunrise Can't  miss  him !  " 

Billy  lay  there  puzzled.  It  sounded  shady,  but  what 
was  the  line  anyway  ?    Then  the  man  spoke. 

"  Sounds  easy  Sammy,  but  how  we  goin'  to  kidnap  a 
man  in  a  high  power  machine?  Wreck  it  of  course,  but 
he  might  get  killed  and  where  would  be  the  reward? 
Besides,  he's  likely  to  be  a  good  shot — " 


10  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

The  voice  from  the  ground  again  growing  clearer: 

"  Put  something  across  the  road  that  he'll  have  to  get 
out  and  move,  like,  a  fallen  tree,  or  one  of  you  lie  in  the 
road  beside  a  car  as  if  you  was  hurt.  I'm  sending  Shorty 
and  Link.  They'll  get  there  about  eight  o'clock.  Beat  him 
to  it  by  an  hour  anyway,  maybe  more.  Now  it's  up  to 
you  to  look  after  details.  Get  anyone  you  want  to  help  till 
Shorty  and  Link  get  there,  and  pay  'em  so  in  case  anything 
gets  them,  or  they're  late.  I'll  keep  you  wise  from  time 
to  time  how  the  guy  gets  on.  I've  got  my  men  on  the 
watch  along  the  line." 

"  I'd  like  t'  know  who  I'd  get  in  this  God  forsaken 
place!"  growled  the  heavy  one,  "Not  a  soul  in  miles 
except  the  agent,  and  he'd  run  right  out  and  telegraph  for 
the  State  constab.  Say,  Sammy,  who  is  this  guy  any- 
way? Is  there  enough  in  it  to  pay  for  the  risk?  You 
know  kidnapping  ain't  any  juvenile  demeanor.  I  didn't 
promise  no  such  stuff  as  this  when  I  said  I'd  take  a  hand 
over  here.  Now  just  a  common  little  hold-up  ain't  so  bad. 
That  could  happen  on  any  lonely  mountain  road.  But  this 
here  kidnapping,  you  never  can  tell  how  its  going  to  turn 
out.  Might  be  murder  before  you  got  through,  especially 
if  Link  is  along.     You  know  Link! " 

"  That's  all  right,  Pat,  you  needn't  worry,  this'll  go 
through  slick  as  a  whistle,  and  a  million  in  it  if  we  work 
it  right.  The  house  is  all  ready — you  know  where — and 
never  a  soul  in  all  the  world  would  suspect.  It's  far 
enough  away  and  yet  not  too  far — .  You'll  make  enough 
cut  of  this  to  retire  for  life  if  you  want  to  Pat,  and  no 
mistake.  All  you've  got  to  do  is  to  handle  it  right,  and 
you  know  your  business." 

"  Who'd  you  say  he  was?  '* 

"  Shafton,  Laurence  Shafton,  son  of  the  big  Shaf ton, 
you  know  Shafton  and  Gates." 

A  heavy  whistle  blended  with  the  whispering  pines. 

"  You  don't  say?    How  much  family?  " 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  11 

"  Mother  living,  got  separate  fortune  in  her  own  right. 
Father  just  dotes  on  him.  Uncle  has  a  big  estate  on  Long 
Island,  plenty  more  millions  there.  I  think  a  million  is 
real  modest  in  us  to  ask,  don't  you?  " 

"Where's  he  goin'  to?  What  makes  you  think  he'll 
come  this  way  'stead  of  the  valley  road?  " 

"  'Cause  he's  just  started,  got  all  the  directions  for  the 
way,  went  over  it  carefully  with  his  valet.  Valet  gave  me 
the  tip  you  understand,  and  has  to  be  in  on  the  rake-off. 
It's  his  part  to  keep  close  to  the  family,  see  ?  Guy's  goin' 
down  to  Beechwood  to  a  house  party,  got  a  bet  on  that  he'll 
make  it  before  daylight.  He's  bound  to  pass  your  moun- 
tain soon  after  midnight,  see?  Are  you  goin'  to  do  your 
part,  or  ain't  you  ?  Or  have  I  got  to  get  a  new  agent  down 
there  ?  And  say !  I  want  a  message  on  this  wire  as  soon  as 
the  job  is  completed.  Now,  you  understand?  Can  you 
pull  it  off?  " 

It  was  some  time  after  the  key  clicked  in  the  lock  and 
the  bulky  form  of  the  freight  agent  lumbered  up  through 
the  pines  again  before  Billy  stirred.  Then  he  wriggled 
around  through  the  undergrowth  until  he  found  himself 
in  front  of  the  innocent  looking  little  box  covered  over 
with  dried  grass  and  branches.  He  examined  it  all  very 
carefully,  pried  underneath  with  his  jack  knife,  discovered 
the  spot  where  the  wire  connected,  speculated  as  to  where 
it  tapped  the  main  line,  prospected  a  bit  about  the  place 
and  then  on  hands  and  knees  wormed  himself  through  the 
thick  growth  of  the  mountain  till  he  came  out  to  the 
huckleberry  clump,  and  recovering  his  bicycle  walked  in- 
nocently up  to  the  station  as  if  it  were  the  first  time  that 
day  and  enquired  of  the  surly  freight  man  whether  a  box 
had  come  for  his  mother. 

In  the  first  place  Billy  hadn't  any  mother,  only  an  aunt 
who  went  out  washing  and  had  hard  times  to  keep  a  decent 


n  THE  CITY  OF  FERE 

place  for  Billy  to  sleep  and  eat,  and  she  never  had  a  box 
come  by  freight  in  her  life.  But  the  burly  one  did  not  know 
that.  Just  what  Billy  Gaston  did  it  for,  perhaps  he  did  not 
quite  know  himself,  save  that  the  lure  of  hanging  round  a 
mystery  was  always  great.  Moreover  it  gave  him  deep 
joy  to  know  that  he  knew  something  about  this  man  that 
the  man  did  not  know  he  knew.  It  was  always  good  to 
know  things.  It  was  always  wise  to  keep  your  mouth  shut 
about  them  when  you  knew  them.  Those  were  the  two 
most  prominent  planks  in  Billy  Gaston's  present  platform 
and  he  stood  upon  them  firmly. 

The  burly  one  gave  Billy  a  brief  and  gruff  negative  to 
his  query  and  went  on  painting  barrel  labels.  He  was 
thinking  of  other  matters,  but  Billy  still  hung  around.  He 
had  a  hunch  that  he  might  be  going  to  make  merchandise 
in  some  way  of  the  knowledge  that  he  had  gained,  so  he 
hung  around,  silently,  observantly,  leaning  on  old 
rusty-trusty. 

The  man  looked  up  and  frowned  suspiciously : 

"  I  told  you  NO !  '*  he  snapped  threateningly,  "  What 
you  standin'  there  for?  " 

Billy  regarded  him  amusedly  as  from  a  superior  height. 

"  Don't  happen  to  know  of  any  odd  jobs  I  could  get," 
he  finally  condescended. 

"  Where  would  you  expect  a  job  around  this  dump?  " 
sneered  the  man  with  an  eloquent  wave  toward  the 
majestic  mountain,  "  Busy  little  hive  right  here  now, 
ain't  it?" 

He  subsided  and  Billy,  slowly,  thoughtfully,  mounted 
his  v/heel  and  rode  around  the  station,  with  the  air  of  one 
who  enjoys  the  scenery.  The  third  time  he  rounded  the 
curve  by  the  freight  agent  the  man  looked  up  with  a 
speculative  squint  and  eyed  the  boy.  The  fourth  time  he 
called  out,  straightening  up  and  laying  down  his  brush. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIKE  13 

"  Say,  Kid,  do  you  know  how  to  keep  yer  mouth  shut  ?" 

The  boy  regarded  him  with  infinite  contempt. 

"  Well,  that  depends !  "  he  said  at  last.  "  If  anybody'd 
make  it  worth  my  while." 

The  man  looked  at  him  narrowly,  the  tone  was  at  once 
so  casual  and  yet  so  full  of  possible  meaning.  The  keenest 
searching  revealed  nothing  in  the  immobile  face  of  the 
boy.    A  cunning  grew  in  the  eyes  of  the  man. 

"  How  would  a  five  look  to  you  ?  " 

"  Not  enough,''  said  the  boy  promptly,  "  I  need 
twenty-five." 

"  Well,  ten  then." 

"  The  boy  rode  off  down  the  platform  and  circled  the 
station  again  while  the  man  stood  puzzled,  half  troubled, 
and  watched  him : 

"I'll  make  it  fifteen.  What  you  want,  the  earth  with  a 
gold  fence  around  it?" 

"  I  said  I  needed  twenty-five,"  said  Billy  doggedly, 
lowering  his  eyes  to  cover  the  glitter  of  coming  triumph. 

The  thick  one  stood  squinting  off  at  the  distant  moun- 
tain thoughtfully,  then  he  turned  and  eyed  Billy  again. 
"How'm  I  gonta  know  you're  efficient  ?"  he  challenged. 

"Guess  you'c'n  take  me  er  leave  me,"  came  back  the 
boy  quickly.    "  Course  if  you've  got  plenty  help — " 

The  man  gave  him  a  quick  bitter  glance.  The  kid  was 
sharp.  He  knew  there  was  no  one  else.  Besides,  how 
much  had  he  overheard?  Had  he  been  around  when  the 
station  telephone  rang?  Kids  like  that  were  deep.  You 
could  always  count  on  them  to  do  a  thing  well  if  they 
undertook  it. 

"Well,  mebbe  I'll  try  you.  You  gotta  be  on  hand 
t'night  at  eight  o'clock  sharp.  It's  mebbe  an  all  night  job, 
but  you  may  be  through  by  midnight." 

"  What  doing?  " 

"  Nothing  much.    Just  lay  in  the  road  with  your  wheel 


14  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

by  your  side  and  act  like  you  had  a  fall  an'  was  hurt.    I 
wanta  stop  a  man  who's  in  a  hurry,  see?  " 

Billy  regarded  him  coolly. 

"Any  shooting?" 

"  Oh,  no ! "  said  the  other,  "  Just  a  little  evening  up 
of  cash.  You  see  that  man's  got  some  money  that 
oughtta  be  mine  by  good  rights,  and  I  wantta  get  it." 

"/  see!  "  said  Billy  nonchalantly,  "  An'  whatcha  gonta 
do  if  he  don't  come  across?  " 

The  man  gave  him  a  scared  look. 

"  Oh,  nothin'  sinful  son;  just  give  him  a  rest  fer  a  few 
days  where  he  won't  see  his  friends,  imtil  he  gets  ready  to 
see  it  the  way  I  do." 

"  H'm !  "  said  Billy  narrowing  his  gray  eyes  to  two 
slits.    "  An'  how  much  did  ya  say  ya  paid  down  ?  " 

The  man  looked  up  angrily. 

"  I  don't  say  I  pay  nothing  down.  If  you  do  the  work 
right  you  get  the  cash  t'night,  a  round  twenty-five,  and 
it's  twenty  bucks  more'n  you  deserve.  Why  off  in  this 
deserted  place  you  ought  ta  be  glad  to  get  twenty-five  cents 
fer  doin'  nothin'  but  lay  in  the  road." 

The  boy  with  one  foot  on  the  pedal  mounted  sideways 
and  slid  along  the  platform  slowly,  indifferently. 

"  Guess  I  gotta  date  t'night,"  he  called  over  his 
shoulder  as  he  swung  the  other  leg  over  the  cross  bar. 

The  heavy  man  made  a  dive  after  him  and  caught  him 
by  the  arm. 

"  Look  here.  Kid,  I  ain't  in  no  mood  to  be  toyed  with," 
he  said  gruffly,  "  You  said  you  wanted  a  job  an'  I'm  being 
square  with  you.  Just  to  show  I'm  being  square  here's 
five  down." 

Billy  looked  at  the  ragged  green  bill  with  a  slight  lift 
of  his  shoulders. 

"  Make  it  ten  down  and  it's  a  go,"  he  said  at  last  with  a 
take-it-or-leave-it  air.     "  I  hadn't  oughtta  let  you  off'n 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  15 

less'n  half,  such  a  shady  job  as  this  looks,  but  make  it  a  ten 
an'  111  close  with  ya.  If  ya  don't  like  it  ask  the  station 
agent  to  help  ya.  I  guess  he  wouldn't  object.  He's  right 
here  handy,  too.    I  live  off  quite  a  piece." 

But  the  man  had  pulled  out  another  five  and  was 
crowding  the  bills  upon  him.  He  had  seen  a  light  in  that 
boy's  eye  that  was  dangerous.  What  was  five  in  a  case  of 
a  million  anyway? 

Billy  received  the  boodle  as  if  it  had  been  chewing  gum 
oi:  a  soiled  handkerchief,  and  stuffed  it  indifferently  into 
his  already  bulging  pocket  in  a  crumple  as  if  it  were  not 
worth  the  effort. 

"  A'rright.  I'll  be  here !  "  he  declared,  and  mounting 
his  wheel  with  an  air  of  finality,  sailed  away  down  the 
platform,  curved  off  the  high  step  with  a  bump  into  the 
road  and  coasted  down  the  road  below  the  tunnel  toward 
Monopoly,  leaving  Sabbath  Valley  glistening  in  the  sun- 
shine off  to  the  right.  With  all  that  money  in  his  pocket 
what  was  the  use  of  going  back  to  Sabbath  Valley  for  his 
lunch  and  making  his  trip  a  good  two  miles  farther  ?  He 
would  beat  the  baseball  team  to  it. 

The  thick  one  stood  disconsolately,  his  grimy  cap  in 
his  hand  and  scratched  his  dusty  head  of  curls  in  2l 
troubled  way. 

''  Gosh !  "  he  said  wrathfully,  "  The  little  devil !  Now 
I  don't  know  what  he'll  do.  I  wonder? — !  But  what  dse 
could  I  do?'* 


II 


Over  in  Sabbath  Valley  quiet  sweetness  brooded, 
broken  now  and  again  by  the  bell-like  sound  of  childish 
laughter  here  and  there.  The  birds  were  holding  high 
carnival  in  the  trees,  and  the  bees  humming  drowsy  little 
tunes  to  pretend  they  were  not  working. 

Most  of  the  men  were  away  at  work,  some  in  Monopoly 
or  Economy,  whither  they  went  in  the  early  morning  in 
their  tin  Lizzies  to  a  little  store  or  a  country  bank,  or  a 
dusty  law  office;  some  in  the  fields  of  the  fertile  valley; 
and  others  off  behind  the  thick  willow  fringe  where  lurked 
the  home  industries  of  tanning  and  canning  and  knitting, 
with  a  plush  mill  higher  up  the  slope  behind  a  group  of 
alders  and  beeches,  its  ugly  stone  chimneys  picturesque 
against  the  mountain,  but  doing  its  best  to  spoil  the  little 
stream  at  its  feet  with  all  colors  of  the  rainbow,  at 
intervals  dyeing  its  bright  waters. 

The  minister  sat  in  his  study  with  his  window  open 
across  the  lawn  between  the  parsonage  and  the  church,  a 
lovely  velvet  view  with  the  old  graveyard  beyond  and  the 
wooded  hill  behind.  He  was  faintly  aware  of  the  shouting 
of  the  birds  in  glad  carnival  in  the  trees,  and  the  busy 
droning  of  the  bees,  as  he  wrote  an  article  on  Modem 
Atheism  for  a  magazine  in  the  distant  world;  but  more 
keenly  alive  to  the  song  on  the  lips  of  his  child,  but  lately 
returned  from  college  life  in  one  of  the  great  universities 
for  women.  He  smiled  as  he  wrote,  and  a  light  came  in 
his  deep  thoughtful  eyes.  She  had  gone  and  come,  and 
she  was  still  unspoiled,  mentally,  physically,  or  spiritually. 
That  was  a  great  deal  to  have  kept  out  of  life  in  these  days 
of  unbelief.  He  had  been  almost  afraid  to  hope  that  she 
would  come  back  the  same. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  17 

In  the  cool  sitting-room  his  wife  was  moving  about, 
putting  the  house  in  order  for  the  day,  and  he  knew  that 
on  her  Hps  also  was  the  smile  of  the  same  content  as  well 
as  if  he  were  looking  at  her  beloved  face. 

On  the  front  veranda  Marilyn  Severn  swept  the  rugs  and 
sang  her  happy  song.  She  was  glad,  glad  to  be  home  again, 
and  her  soul  bubbled  over  with  the  joy  of  it.  There  was 
happiness  in  the  curve  of  her  red  lips,  in  the  softly  rounded 
freshness  of  her  cheek  and  brow,  in  the  eyes  that  held 
dancing  lights  like  stars,  and  in  every  gleaming  tendril  of 
her  wonderful  bright  hair  that  burst  forth  from  under 
the  naive  little  sweeping  cap  that  sat  on  her  head  like  a 
crown.  She  was  small,  lithe,  graceful,  and  she  vibrated 
joy,  health,  eagerness  in  every  glance  of  her  eye,  every 
motion  of  her  lovely  hands. 

Down  the  street  suddenly  sounded  a  car.  Not  the 
rattling,  cheap  affairs  that  were  commonly  used  in  those 
parts  for  hard  work  and  dress  affairs,  with  a  tramp 
snuffle  and  bark  as  they  bounced  along  beneath  the  maples 
like  house  dogs  that  knew  their  business  and  made  as 
much  noise  about  it  as  they  could ;  but  a  car  with  a  purr  like 
a  soft  petted  cat  by  the  fire,  yet  a  power  behind  the  purr 
that  might  have  belonged  to  a  lion  if  the  need  for  power 
arose.  It  stole  down  the  street  like  a  thing  of  the  world, 
well  oiled  and  perfect  in  its  way,  and  not  needing  to  make 
any  clatter  about  its  going.  The  very  quietness  of  it  made 
the  minister  look  up,  sent  the  minister's  wife  to  raise  the 
shade  of  the  sitting-room  window,  and  caused  the  girl  to 
look  up  from  her  task. 

The  morning  flooded  her  face,  the  song  was  stayed,  a 
great  light  came  into  her  eyes. 

The  man  who  was  driving  the  car  had  the  air  of  not 
expecting  to  stop  at  the  parsonage.  Even  when  he  saw  the 
girl  on  the  porch  he  held  to  his  way,  and  something  hard 
and  cold  and  infinitely  sad  settled  down  over  his  face.    It 

2 


18  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

even  looked  as  though  he  did  not  intend  to  recognize  her, 
or  perhaps  wasn't  sure  whether  she  would  recognize  him. 
There  was  a  moment's  breathless  suspense  and  the  car 
slid  just  the  fraction  past  the  gate  in  the  hedge,  without 
a  sign  of  stopping,  only  a  lifting  of  a  correct  looking  straw 
hat  that  somehow  seemed  a  bit  out  of  place  in  Sabbath 
Valley.  But  Lynn  left  no  doubt  in  his  mind  whether 
she  would  recognize  him.  She  dropped  her  broom  and 
sped  down  the,  path,  and  the  car  came  to  an  abrupt  halt, 
only  a  hair's  breadth  past  the  gate, — ^but  still — ^that 
hair's  breadth. 

"  Oh,  Mark,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you!  "  she  cried  genu- 
inely with  her  hand  out  in  welcome,  "  They  said  you  were 
not  at  home." 

The  boy's  voice — ^he  had  been  a  boy  when  she  left  him, 
though  now  he  looked  strangely  hard  and  old  like  a  man  of 
the  world — ^was  husky  as  he  answered  gravely,  swinging 
himself  down  on  the  walk  beside  her : 

"  I  just  got  in  late  last  night.  How  are  you  Lynn? 
You're  looking  fine." 

He  took  her  offered  hand,  and  clasped  it  for  a  brief 
instant  in  a  warm  strong  pressure,  but  dropped  it  again 
and  there  was  a  quick  cold  withdrawing  of  his  eyes  that 
she  did  not  understand.  The  old  Mark  Carter  would  never 
have  looked  at  her  coolly,  impersonally  like  that.  What 
was  it,  was  he  shy  of  her  after  the  long  separation?  Four 
years  was  a  long  time,  of  course,  but  there  had  been 
occasional  letters.  He  had  always  been  away  when  she 
was  at  home,  and  she  had  been  home  very  little  between 
her  school  years.  There  had  been  summer  sessions  twice 
and  once  father  and  mother  had  come  to  her  and  they  had 
taken  a  wonderful  trip  together.  But  always  there  had 
seemed  to  be  Mark  Carter,  her  old  friend  and  playmate,  in 
the  background.  Now,  suddenly  he  seemed  to  be  removed 
to  indefinite  distances.    It  was  as  if  she  were  looking  at  a 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  19 

picture  that  purported  to  be  her  friend,  yet  seemed  a 
travesty,  like  one  wearing  a  mask.  She  stood  in  the  sun- 
light looking  at  him,  in  her  quaint  little  cap  and  a  long 
white  enveloping  house  apron,  and  she  seemed  to  him  like 
a  haloed  saint.  Something  Hke  worship  shone  in  his  eyes, 
but  he  kept  the  mask  down,  and  looked  at  her  with  the 
eyes  of  a  stranger  while  he  talked,  and  smiled  a  stiff 
conventional  smile.  But  a  look  of  anguish  grew  in  his 
young  face,  like  the  sorrow  of  something  primeval,  such  as 
a  great  rock  in  a  desert. 

The  minister  had  forgotten  his  article  and  was  watch- 
ing them  through  the  window,  the  tall  handsome  youth,  his 
head  bared  with  the  glint  of  the  sun  on  his  short  cropped 
gold  curls  making  one  think  of  a  young  prince,  yet  a  prince 
bound  under  a  spell  and  frozen  in  a  block  of  ice.  He  was 
handsome  as  Adonis,  every  feature  perfect,  and  striking  in 
its  manly  beauty,  yet  there  was  nothing  feminine  about 
him.  The  minister  was  conscious  of  all  this  as  he  watched 
— this  boy  whom  he  had  seen  grow  up,  and  this  girl  of  his 
heart.  A  great  still  question  came  into  the  father's  look 
as  he  watched. 

The  minister  was  conscious  of  Lynn's  mother  standing 
in  the  doorway  just  behind  him,  although  she  had  made  no 
noise  in  entering.  And  at  once  she  knew  he  was  aware  of 
her  presence. 

"  Isn't  that  Mark  Carter? "  she  asked  just  above 
a  breath. 

He  nodded. 

"  And  she  doesn't  know !    You  haven't  told  her?  " 

The  minister  shook  his  head. 

"  He  will  tell  her.    See,  he  is  telling  her  now!  " 

The  mother  drew  a  shade  nearer. 

"  But  how  do  you  know?  See,  she  is  doing  the 
talking.  You  think  he  will  tell  her?  What  will  he  tell 
her,  Graham  ?  '* 


20  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"  Oh,  he  will  not  tell  her  in  words,  but  every  atom  of 
his  being  is  telling  her  now.  Can't  you  see?  He  is  telling 
her  that  he  is  no  longer  worthy  to  be  her  equal.  He  is 
telling  her  that  something  has  gone  wrong." 

"  Graham,  what  do  you  think  is  the  matter  with  him? 
Do  you  think  he  is — BAD?  "  She  lifted  frightened  eyes 
to  his  as  she  dropped  into  her  low  chair  that  always  stood 
conveniently  near  his  desk. 

A  wordless  sorrow  overspread  the  minister's  face,  yet 
there  was  something  valiant  in  his  eyes. 

"  No,  I  can't  think  that.  I  must  believe  in  him  in 
spite  of  everything.  It  looks  to  me  somehow  as  if  he  was 
trying  to  be  bad  and  couldn't." 

"Well,  but — Graham,  isn't  that  the  same  thing?  If 
he  wants  to  be?  " 

The  minister  shook  his  head. 

"  He  doesn't  want  to  be.  But  he  has  some  purpose  in 
it.  He  is  doing  it — ^perhaps — well — it  might  be  for  her 
sake  you  know." 

The  mother  looked  perplexed,  and  hesitated,  then 
shook  her  head. 

"  That  would  be — preposterous !  How  could  he  hurt 
her  so — if  he  cared.    It  must  be — he  does  not  care — !  " 

"  He  cares!  "  said  the  man. 

"  Then  how  do  you  explain  it?  " 

"  I  don't  explain  it." 

"  Are  you  going  to  let  it  go  on?  " 

"What  can  be  done?" 

"  I'd  do  something." 

"  No,  Mary.  That's  something  he's  got  to  work  out 
himself.  If  he  isn't  big  enough  to  get  over  his  pride. 
His  self -consciousness.  His — ^whatever  he  calls  it —  If  he 
isn't  big  enough — Then  he  isn't  big  enough — !"  The 
man  sighed  with  a  faraway  patient  look.  The  woman 
stirred  uneasily. 

"  Graham,"    she   said   suddenly   lifting   her   eyes    in 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  21 

troubled  question,  "  When  your  cousin  Eugenie  was  here, 
you  remember,  she  talked  about  it  one  day.  She  said  we 
had  no  right  to  let  Lynn  become  so  attached  to  a  mere 
country  boy  who  would  grow  up  a  boor.  She  said  he  had 
no  education,  no  breeding,  no  family,  and  that  Lynn  had 
the  right  to  the  best  social  advantages  to  be  had  in  the 
world.  She  said  Lynn  was  a  natural  born  aristo- 
crat, and  that  we  had  a  great  responsibility  bringing 
up  a  child  with  a  face  like  hers,  and  a  mind  like 
hers,  and  an  inheritance  like  hers,  in  this  little  anti- 
quated country  place.  She  said  it  was  one  thing  for  you 
with  your  culture  and  your  fine  education,  and  your  years 
of  travel  and  experience,  to  hide  yourself  here  if  you 
choose  for  a  few  years,  pleasing  yourself  at  playing  with 
souls  and  uplifting  a  little  comer  of  the  universe  while  you 
were  writing  a  great  book;  but  it  was  quite  another  for 
us  to  allow  our  gifted  young  daughter  to  know  no  other 
life.  And  especially  she  harped  on  Lynn's  friendship  with 
Mark.  She  called  him  a  hobbledehoy,  said  his  mother  was 
*  common/  and  that  coming  from  a  home  like  that,  he 
would  never  amount  to  anything  or  have  an  education. 
He  would  always  be  common  and  loaf  erish,  and  it  wouldn't 
make  any  difference  if  he  did,  he  would  never  be  cultured 
no  matter  how  much  education  he  had.  He  was  not  in  her 
class.  She  kept  saying  that  over.  She  said  a  lot  of  things 
and  always  ended  up  with  that.  And  finally  she  said  that 
we  were  perfectly  crazy,  both  of  us.  That  she  supposed 
Lynn  thought  she  was  christianizing  the  boy  or  some- 
thing, but  it  was  dangerous  business,  and  we  ought  to  be 
warned.  And  Graham,  Fm:  afraid  Mark  heard  it!  He 
was  just  coming  up  on  the  porch  as  she  finished  and  Fm 
almost  sure  he  heard  it !  " 

The  eyes  of  the  minister  gave  a  startled  flicker  and  then 
grew  comprehending.  "  I  wondered  why  he  gave  up  col- 
lege after  he  had  worked  so  hard  to  get  in." 


22  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"  But  Graliam !  Surely,  if  he  had  heard  he  would  have 
wanted  to  show  her  that  she  was  wrong." 

"  No,  Mary.  He  is  not  built  that  way.  It*s  his  one 
big  fault.  Always  to  be  what  he  thinks  people  have 
labeled  him,  or  to  seem  to  be.  To  be  that  in  defiance, 
knowing  in  his  heart  he  really  isn't  that  at  all.  It's  a 
curious  physchological  study.  It  makes  me  think  of  nothing 
else  but  when  the  Prince  of  the  Power  of  the  Air  wanted 
to  be  God.  Mark  wants  to  be  a  young  God.  When  he 
finds  he's  not  taken  that  way  he  makes  himself  look  like 
the  devil  in  defiance.  Don't  you  remember,  Mary,  how 
when  Bob  Bliss  broke  that  memorial  window  in  the  church 
and  said  it  was  Mark  did  it,  how  Mark  stood  looking  de- 
fiantly from  one  to  another  of  us  to  see  if  we  would  believe 
it,  and  when  he  found  the  elders  were  all  against  him  and 
had  begun  to  get  ready  for  punishment,  he  lifted  his  fine 
young  shoulders,  and  folded  his  arms,  and  just  bowed  in 
acquiescence,  as  if  to  say  yes,  he  had  done  it?  Don't  you 
remember,  Mary?  He  nearly  broke  my  heart  that  day, 
the  hurt  look  in  his  eyes ;  the  game,  mistaken,  little  devil ! 
He  was  only  ten,  and  yet  for  four  long  months  he  bore 
the  blame  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole  village  for  breaking  that 
window,  till  Bob  told  the  truth  and  cleared  him.  Not 
because  he  wanted  to  save  Bob  Bliss,  for  everybody  knew 
he  was  a  little  scamp,  and  needed  pimishment,  but  because 
he  was  hurt — hurt  way  down  into  the  soul  of  him  to  think 
anybody  had  thought  he  would  want  to  break  the  window 
we  had  all  worked  so  hard  to  buy.  And  he  actually  broke 
three  cellar  windows  in  that  vacant  store  by  the  post  office, 
yes,  and  paid  for  them,  just  to  keep  up  his  character  and 
give  us  some  reason  for  our  belief  against  him." 

The  wife  with  a  cloud  of  anxiety  in  her  eyes,  and  dis- 
approval in  her  voice,  answered  slowly : 

"  That's  a  bad  trait,  Graham.  I  can't  understand  it. 
It  is  something  wrong  in  his  nature." 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  23 

"  Yes,  Mary,  it  is  sin,  original  sin,  but  it  comes  at  him 
from  a  different  direction  from  most  of  us,  that's  all.  It 
comes  through  sensitiveness.  It  is  his  reaction  to  a  deep 
and  mortal  hurt.  Some  men  would  be  stimulated  to  finer 
action  by  criticism,  he  is  stimulated  to  defy,  and  he  does 
not  know  that  he  is  trying  to  defy  God  and  all  the  laws  of 
the  universe.  Some  day  he  will  find  it  out,  and  know  that 
only  through  humility  can  he  make  good." 

"  But  he  is  letting  all  his  opportunities  go  by." 

"  Tm  not  so  sure.  You  can't  tell  what  he  may  be  doing 
out  in  the  world  where  he  is  gone." 

"  But  they  say  he  is  very  wild." 

"  They  were  always  saying  things  about  him  when  he 
was  here,  and  most  of  them  were  not  true.  You  and  I 
knew  him,  Mary.  Was  there  ever  a  finer  young  soul  on 
earth  than  he  with  his  clear  true  eyes,  his  eager  tender 
heart,  his  brave  fearlessness  and  strength.  I  can  not  think 
he  has  sold  his  soul  to  sin — ^not  yet.  It  may  be.  It  may  be 
that  only  in  the  Far  Country  will  he  realize  it  is  God  he 
wants  and  be  ready  to  say,  '  I  have  sinned '  and  '  I 
will  arise.'  " 

"  But  Graham,  I  should  think  that  just  because  you 
believe  in  him  you  could  talk  to  him." 

"  No,  Mary.  I  can't  probe  into  the  depths  of  that 
sensitive  soul  and  dig  out  his  confidence.  He  would  never 
give  it  that  way.  It  is  a  matter  between  himself  and  God." 

''  But  Lynn—" 
"  Lynn  has  God  too,  my  dear.     We  must  not  forget 
that.    Life  is  not  all  for  this  world,  either.     Thank  God 
Lynn  believes  that !  " 

The  mother  sighed  with  troubled  eyes,  and  rose.  The 
purring  of  the  engine  was  heard.  Lynn  would  be  coming 
in.  They  watched  the  young  man  swing  his  car  out  into 
the  road  and  glide  away  like  a  comet  with  a  wild  sophisti- 
cated snort  of  his  engine  that  sent  him  so  far  away  in  a 


24  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

flash.  They  watched  the  girl  statiding"  where  he  had  left 
her,  a  stricken  look  upon  her  face,  and  saw  her  turn  slowly 
back  to  the  house  with  eyes  down — ^troubled.  The  mother 
moved  away.  The  father  bent  his  head  upon  his  hand 
with  closed  eyes.  The  girl  came  back  to  her  work,  but  the 
song  on  her  lips  had  died.  She  worked  silently  with  a  far 
look  in  her  eyes,  trying  to  fathom  it. 

The  eyes  of  her  father  and  mother  followed  her  ten- 
derly all  that  day,  and  it  was  as  if  the  souls  of  the  three  had 
dasped  hands,  and  understood,  so  mistily  they  smiled  at 
one  another. 

Billy  Gaston,  refreshed  by  a  couple  of  chocolate  fudge 
sundaes,  a  banana  whip,  and  a  lemon  ice-cream  soda,  was 
seated  on  the  bench  with  the  heroes  of  the  day  at  the 
Monopoly  baseball  grounds.  He  wore  his  most  nonchalant 
air,  chewed  gumwithhis  usual  vigor,  shouted  himself  hoarse 
at  the  proper  places,  and  made  casual  grown-up  responses 
to  the  condescension  of  the  team,  wrapping  them  tenderly 
in  ancient  sweaters  when  they  were  disabled,  and  watching 
every  move  of  the  game  with  a  practised  eye  and  an  im- 
mobile countenance.  But  though  to  the  eyes  of  the  small 
fry  on  the  grass  at  his  feet  he  was  as  self-sufficient  as  ever, 
somehow  he  kept  having  strange  qualms,  and  his  mind  kept 
reverting  to  the  swart  fat  face  of  Pat  at  the  Junction,  as 
it  ducked  behind  the  cypress  and  talked  into  the  crude 
telephone  on  the  mountain.  Somehow  he  couldn't  forget 
the  gloat  in  his  eye  as  he  spoke  of  the  "  rich  guy.'*  More 
and  more  uneasy  he  grew,  more  sure  that  the  expedition 
to  which  he  was  pledged  was  not  strictly  "  on  the  square.'* 

Not  that  Billy  Gaston  was  afraid.  The  thrill  of  excite- 
ment burned  along  his  veins  and  filled  him  with  a  fine  ela- 
tion whenever  he  thought  of  the  great  adventure,  and  he 
gave  his  pocket  a  protective  slap  where  the  "  ten  bones  " 
still  reposed  intact.  He  felt  well  pleased  with  himself  to 
have  made  sure  of  those.  Whatever  happened  he  had  that, 
and  if  the  man  wasn't  on  the  square  Pat  deserved  to  lose 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  25 

that  much.  Not  that  Billy  Gaston  meant  to  turn  "  yellow  '* 
after  promising,  but  there  was  no  telling  whether  the  rest 
of  the  twenty-five  would  be  forthcoming  or  not.  He  fell 
to  calculating  its  worth  in  terms  of  new  sweaters  and  base- 
ball bats.  If  worst  came  to  worst  he  could  threaten  to 
expose  Pat  and  his  scheme. 

During  the  first  and  second  innings  these  reflections 
soothed  his  soul  and  made  him  sit  immovable  with  jaws 
grinding  in  rythmic  harmony  with  the  day.  But  at  the 
beginning  of  the  third  inning  one  of  the  boys  from  his 
Sunday-school  class  strolled  by  and  flung  himself  full 
length  on  the  grass  at  his  feet  where  he  could  see  his  pro- 
file just  as  he  had  seen  it  on  Sunday  while  he  was  listening 
to  the  story  that  the  teacher  always  told  to  introduce  the 
lesson.  He  could  see  the  blue  of  Lynn  Sevem^s  eyes  as 
she  told  it,  and  strangely  enough  portions  of  the  tale  came 
floating  back  in  trailing  mist  across  the  dusty  baseball 
diamond  and  obscured  the  sight  of  Sloppy  Hedrick  sliding 
to  his  base.  It  was  a  tale  o£  one,  Judas,  who  betrayed  his 
best  Friend  with  a  kiss.  It  came  with  strange  illogical 
persistence,  and  seemed  curiously  incongruous  with  the 
sweet  air  of  summer  blowing  over  the  hard  young  faces 
and  dusty  diamond.  What  had  Judas  to  do  with  a  base- 
ball game,  or  with  Billy  Gaston  and  what  he  meant  to  do  on 
the  mountain  that  night? — and  earn  good  money — !  Ah! 
That  was  it.  Make  good  money !  But  who  was  he  betray- 
ing he  would  like  to  know?  Well  if  it  wasn't  on  the  square 
perhaps  he  was  betraying  that  same  One —  Aw —  Rats! 
He  wasn't  under  anybody's  thumb  and  Judas  lived  centuries 
ago.  He  wasn't  doing  any  harm  helping  a  man  do  some- 
thing he  wasn't  supposed  to  know  what.  Hang  it  all! 
Where  was  Mark  Carter  anyway  ?  Somehow  Cart  always 
seemed  to  set  a  fella  straight.  He  was  Hke  Miss  Lynn. 
He  saw  through  things  you  hadn't  even  told  him  about. 
But  this  was  a  man's  affair,  not  a  woman's. 

Of  course  there  was  another  side  to  it.    He  could  give 


26  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

some  of  the  money  to  Aunt  Saxon  to  buy  coal — instead  of 
the  sweater — well,  maybe  it  would  do  both.  And  he  could 
give  some  to  that  fund  for  the  Chinese  Mission,  Miss  Lynn 
was  getting  up  in  the  class.  He  would  stop  on  the  way 
back  and  give  her  a  whole  dollar.  He  sat,  chin  in  hand, 
gazing  out  on  the  field,  quite  satisfied  with  himself,  and 
suddenly  some  one  back  by  the  plate  struck  a  fine  clean  ball 
with  a  click  and  threw  the  bat  with  a  resounding  ring  on 
the  hard  ground  as  he  made  for  a  home  run.  Billy  started 
and  looked  keenly  at  the  bat,  for  somehow  the  ring  of  it 
as  it  fell  sounded  curiously  like  the  tinkle  of  silver.  Who 
said  thirty  pieces  of  silver?  Billy  threw  a  furtive  look 
about  and  a  cold  perspiration  broke  out  on  his  forehead. 
Queer  that  old  Bible  story  had  to  stick  itself  in.  He  could 
see  the  grieving  in  the  Master's  eyes  as  Judas  gave  Hini 
that  kiss.  She  had  made  the  story  real.  She  could  do  that, 
and  made  the  boy  long  somehow  to  make  it  up  to  that  be- 
trayed Master,  and  he  couldn't  get  away  from  the  feeling 
that  he  was  falling  short.  Of  course  old  Pat  had  said  the 
man  had  money  belonging  to  him,  and  you  had  to  go 
mostly  by  what  folks  said,  but  it  did  look  shady. 

The  game  seemed  slow  after  that  The  two  captains 
were  wrangling  over  some  point  of  rule,  and  the  umpire 
was  trying  to  pacify  them  both.  Billy  arose  with  well 
feigned  languor  and  remarked,  "  Well,  I  gotta  beat  it. 
Guess  we're  gonta  win  all  right.  So  long!  "  and  lounged 
away  to  his  w^heel. 

He  purchased  another  soda  at  the  drug  store  to  get  one 
of  his  fives  changed  into  ones,  one  of  which  he  stowed 
away  in  his  breast  pocket,  while  the  remainder  was  stuffed 
in  his  trousers  after  the  manner  of  a  man.  He  bent  low 
over  his  handle  bars,  chewing  rythmically  and  pedaled 
away  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  Sabbath  Valley. 


Ill 


The  bells  of  the  little  stone  church  were  playing  tender 
melodies  as  he  shot  briskly  down  the  maple  lined  street  at 
a  break  neck  pace,  and  the  sun  was  just  hovering  on  the 
rim  of  the  mountain.  The  bells  often  played  at  sunset, 
especially  Saturday  evenings,  when  Maril}^  Severn  was 
at  home,  and  the  village  loved  to  hear  them.  Billy  wouldn't 
have  owned  it,  but  he  loved  to  hear  those  bells  play  better 
than  anything  else  in  his  young  life,  and  he  generally 
managed  to  be  around  when  they  were  being  played.  He 
loved  to  watch  the  slim  young  fingers  manipulating  the  glad 
sounds.  A  genius  who  had  come  to  the  quiet  hill  village 
to  die  of  an  incurable  disease  had  trained  her  and  had  left 
the  wonderful  little  pipe  organ  with  its  fine  chime  of  bells 
attached  as  his  memorial  to  the  peace  the  village  had  given 
him  in  his  last  days.  Something  of  his  skill  and  yearning 
had  fallen  upon  the  young  girl  whom  he  had  taught.  Billy 
always  felt  as  if  an  angel  had  come  and  was  ringing  the 
hells  of  heaven  when  Marilyn  sat  at  the  organ  playing 
the  bells. 

This  night  a  ray  of  the  setting  sun  slanting  through 
the  memorial  window  on  her  bronze  gold  hair  gave  her 
the  look  of  Saint  Cecilia  sitting  there  in  the  dimness  of 
the  church.  Billy  sidled  into  a  back  seat  still  chewing  and 
watched  her.  He  could  almost  see  a  halo  in  yellow  gold 
sun  dust  circling  above  her  hair.  Then  a  sudden  revulsion 
came  with  the  thought  of  "  that  guy  Judas  "  and  the  pos- 
sibility that  he  and  the  old  fellow  had  much  in  common. 
But  Bah !  He  would  go  to  the  mountain  just  to  prove  to 
himself  that  there  was  nothing  crooked  in  it. 

The  music  was  tender  that  night  and  Billy  felt  a  strange 
constriction  in  his  throat.    But  you  never  would  have 

27 


28  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

guessed,  as  Lynn  Severn  turned  at  the  end  of  her  melody 
to  search  the  dimness  for  the  presence  she  felt  had  entered, 
that  he  had  been  iinder  any  stress  of  emotion,  the  way  he 
grinned  at  her  and  sidled  up  the  aisle. 

"  Yeah,  we  won  awright,"  in  answer  to  her  question, 
"  Red  Rodge  and  Sloppy  had  'em  beat  from  the  start. 
Those  other  guys  can't  play  ball  an)rway." 

Then  quite  casually  he  brought  forth  the  dollar  from 
his  breast  pocket. 

"  Fer  the  Qiinese  Fund,"  he  stated  indifferently. 

The  look  in  her,  face  was  beautiful  to  see,  almost  as  if 
there  were  tears  behind  the  sapphire  lights  in  her  eyes. 

"Billy!    All  this?'' 

He  felt  as  if  she  had  knighted  him.  He  turned  red  and 
hot  with  shame  and  pleasure. 

"Aw,  that  ain't  much.  I  earned  sommore  too,  fer 
m'yant."  He  twisted  his  cap  around  on  his  other  hand 
roughly  and  then  blurted  out  the  last  thing  he  had  meant 
to  say : 

"  Miss  Lynn,  it  ain't  wrong  to  do  a  thing  you  don't 
know  ain't  wrong,  is  it  ?  " 

Maril)m  looked  at  him  keenly  and  laughed. 

"  It  generally  is,  Billy,  if  you  think  it  might  be.  Don't 
ever  try  to  fool  your  conscience,  Billy,  it's  too  smart 
for  that." 

He  grinned  sheepishly  and  then  quite  irrelevantly 
remarked : 

"  I  saw  Cart  last  night" 

But  she  seemed  to  understand  the  connection  and 
nodded  gravely: 

"  Yes,  I  saw  him  a  moment  this  morning.  He  said 
he  might  come  back  again  this  evening.  " 

The  boy  grunted  contentedly  and  watched  the  warm 
color  of  her  cheek  under  the  glow  of  the  ruddy  sunset. 
She  always  seemed  to  him  a  little  bit  unearthly  in  the  star- 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  29 

riness  of  her  beauty.  Of  course  he  never  put  it  to  himself 
that  way.  In  fact  he  never  put  it  at  all.  It  was  just  a  fact 
in  his  life.  He  had  two  idols  whom  he  worshipped  from 
afar,  two  idols  who  understood  him  equally  well  and  were 
understood  by  him,  and  for  whom  he  would  have  gladly  laid 
down  his  young  life.  This  girl  was  one,  and  Mark  Carter 
was  the  other.  It  was  the  sorrow  of  his  young  life  that 
Mark  Carter  had  left  Sabbath  Valley  indefinitely.  The 
stories  that  floated  back  of  his  career  made  no  difference 
to  Billy.  He  adored  him  but  the  more  in  his  fierce  young 
soul,  and  gloried  in  his  hero's  need  of  faithful  friends. 
He  would  not  have  owned  it  to  himself,  perhaps,  but  he 
had  spoken  of  Mark  just  to  find  out  if  this  other  idol 
believed  those  tales  and  was  affected  by  them.  He  drew  a 
sigh  of  deep  content  as  he  heard  the  steady  voice  and  knew 
that  she  was  still  the  young  man's  friend. 

They  passed  out  of  the  church  silently  together  and 
parted  in  the  glow  of  red  that  seemed  flooding  the  quiet 
village  like  a  painting.  She  went  across  the  stretch  of 
lawn  to  the  low  spreading  veranda  where  her  mother  sat 
talking  with  her  father.  Some  crude  idea  of  her  beauty 
and  grace  stole  through  his  soul,  but  he  only  said 
to  himself: 

"  How, — kind  of — little  she  is !  "  and  then  made  a  dash 
for  his  rusty  old  wheel  lying  flat  at  the  side  of  the  church 
step.  He  gathered  it  up  and  wheeled  it  around  the  side  of 
the  church  to  the  old  graveyard,  threading  his  way  imong 
the  graves  and  sitting  down  on  a  broad  flat  stone  where 
he  had  often  thought  out  his  problems  of  life.  The 
shadow  of  the  church  cut  off  the  glow  of  sunset,  and  made 
it  seem  silent  and  dark.  Ahead  of  him  the  Valley  lay. 
Across  at  the  right  it  stretched  toward  the  Junction,  and 
he  could  see  the  evening  train  just  pufling  in  with  a  wee 
wisp  of  white  misty  smoke  trailing  against  the  moimtain 
green.    The  people  for  the  hotels  would  be  swarming  off. 


30  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

for  it  was  Saturday  night.  The  fat  one  would  be  there 
rolling  trunks  across  and  the  station  agent  would  presently- 
close  up.  It  would  be  dark  over  there  at  eight  o'clock.  The 
mountains  loomed  silently,  purpling  and  steep  and  hazy 
already  with  sleep. 

To  the  left  lay  the  road  that  curved  up  to  the  forks 
where  one  went  across  to  the  Highway  and  at  right  angles 
the  Highway  went  straight  across  the  ridge  in  front  of 
him  and  sloped  down  to  the  spot  where  the  fat  one 
expected  him  to  play  his  part  at  eight  o'clock  to-night. 
The  Highway  was  the  way  down  which  the  "  rich  guy  '* 
was  expected  to  come  speeding  in  a  high  power  car  from 
New  York,  and  had  to  be  stopped  and  relieved  of  money 
that  '*  did  not  belong  to  him." 

Billy  thought  it  all  over.  Somehow  things  seemed  dif- 
ferent now.  He  had  by  some  queer  psychological  process 
of  his  own,  brought  Lynn  Severn's  mind  and  Mark 
Carter's  mind  together  to  bear  upon  the  matter  and  gained 
a  new  perspective.  He  was  pretty  well  satisfied  in  his  own 
soul  that  the  thing  he  had  set  out  to  do  was  not  "  on 
the  level."  ll  began  to  be  pretty  plain  to  him  that  that 
"  rich  guy  "  might  be  in  the  way  of  getting  hurt  or  per- 
haps still  worse,  and  he  had  no  wish  to  be  tangled  up  in  a 
mess  like  that.  At  the  same  time  he  did  not  often  get  a 
chance  to  make  twenty-five  dollars,  and  he  had  no  mind 
to  give  it  up.  It  was  not  in  his  unyellow  soul  to  go  back 
on  his  word  without  refunding  the  money,  and  a  dollar  of 
it  was  already  spent  to  the  "  Chinese  Fund,"  to  say  nothing 
of  simdaes  and  sodas  and  whips.  So  he  sat  and  studied  the 
mountain  ahead  of  him. 

Suddenly,  as  the  sun,  which  had  been  for  a  long  time 
slipping  down  behind  the  mountains  at  his  back,  finally 
disappeared,  his  face  cleared.    He  had  found  a  solution. 

He  sprang  up  from  the  cold  stone,  where  his  fingers 
had  been  mechanically  feeling  out  the  familiar  letters  of 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  SI 

the  inscription :  "  Blessed  are  the  dead — ''  and  catching  up 
the  prone  wheel,  strode  upon  it  and  dashed  down  the 
darkening  street  toward  the  little  cottage  near  the  willows 
belonging  to  his  Aunt  Saxon.  He  was  whistling  as  he  went, 
for  he  was  happy.  He  had  found  a  way  to  keep  his  cake 
and  eat  it  too.  It  would  not  have  been  Billy  if  he  had  not 
found  a  way  out. 

Aunt  Saxon  turned  a  drawn  and  anxious  face  away 
from  the  window  at  his  approach  and  drew  a  sigh  of 
momentary  relief.  This  bringing  up  boys  was  a  terrible 
ordeal.  But  thanks  be  this  immediate  terror  was  past  and 
her  sister's  orphaned  child  still  lived !  She  hurried  to  the 
stove  where  the  waiting  supper  gave  forth  a  pleasant  odor. 

"  Been  down  to  the  game  at  M'nop'ly,"  he  explained 
happily  as  he  flimg  breezily  into  the  kitchen  and  dashed 
his  cap  on  a  chair,  "  Gee !  That  ham  smells  good !  Say, 
Saxy,  whad-ya  do  with  that  can  of  black  paint  I  left  on  the 
door  step  last  Saturday?  " 

"  It's  In  a  wooden  box  in  the  corner  of  the  shed, 
Willie,"  answered  his  Aunt,  "Come  to  supper  now.  It'll 
all  get  cold.    I've  been  waiting  most  an  hour," 

"  Oh,  hang  it !  I  don't  s'pose  you  know  where  the 
brush  Is — Yes,  I'm  coming.     Oh,  here  'tis !  " 

He  ate  ravenously  and  briefly.  His  aunt  watched  him 
with  a  kind  of  breathless  terror  waiting  for  the  Inevitable 
remark  at  the  close :  "  Well,  I  gotta  beat  it !  I  gotta  date 
with  the  fellas!" 

She  had  ceased  to  argue.  She  merely  looked  distressed. 
It  seemed  a  part  of  his  masculinity  that  was  inevitable. 

At  the  door  he  was  visited  with  an  unusual  thoughtful- 
ness.    He  stuck  his  head  back  in  the  room  to  say : 

"  Oh,  yes,  Saxy,  I  might  not  be  home  till  morning.  I 
might  stay  all  night  some  place." 

He  was  going  without  further  explanation,  but  her 
dismay  as  she  murmured  pathetically: 


32  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"But  to-morrow  is  the  Sabbath,  Willie—!"  halted 
him  once  more. 

'*Oh,  I'll  be  home  time  fer  Sunday-school,"  he 
promised  gaily,  and  was  off  down  the  road  in  the  darkness, 
his  old  wheel  squeaking  rheumatically  with  each  revolu- 
tion growing  fainter  and  fainter  in  the  night. 

But  Billy  did  not  take  the  road  to  the  Junction  in  his 
rapid  flight.  Instead  he  climbed  the  left  hand  mountain 
road  that  met  the  Forks  and  led  to  the  great  Highway. 
Slower  and  slower  the  old  wheel  went,  Billy  puffing  and 
bending  low,  till  finally  he  had  to  dismount  and  put  a  drop 
of  oil  in  a  well  known  spot  which  his  finger  found  in  the 
dark,  from  the  little  can  he  carried  in  his  pocket  for  such  a 
time  of  need.  He  did  not  care  to  proclaim  his  coming  as  he 
crept  up  the  rough  steep  way.  And  once  when  a  tin  Lizzie 
swept  down  upon  him,  he  ducked  and  dropped  into  the 
fringe  of  alders  at  the  wayside  until  it  was  past.  Was  that, 
could  it  have  been  Cart?  It  didn't  look  like  Cart's  car,  but 
it  was  very  dark,  and  the  man  had  not  dimmed  his  lights. 
It  was  blinding.  He  hoped  it  was  Cart,  and  that  he  had 
gone  to  the  parsonage.  Somehow  he  liked  to  think  of  those 
two  together.  It  made  his  own  view  of  life  seem  stronger. 
So  he  slunk  quietly  up  to  the  fork  where  the  Highway 
swept  down  round  a  curve,  and  turned  to  go  down  across 
the  ridge.  Here  was  the  spot  where  the  rich  guy  would 
presently  come.  He  looked  the  ground  over,  with  his  bike 
safely  hidden  below  road  level.  With  a  sturdy  set  of 
satisfaction  to  his  shoulders,  and  a  twinkle  of  fun  in  his 
eye,  he  began  to  burrow  into  the  undergrowth  and  find 
branches,  a  fallen  log,  stones,  anything,  and  drag  them 
up  across  the  great  state  highway  till  he  had  a  com- 
plete barricade. 

There  had  come  a  silverness  in  the  sky  over  the  next 
eastern  mountain,  and  he  could  see  the  better  what  he  was 
doing.    Now  and  again  he  stopped  cautiously  and  listened, 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  33 

his  heart  beating"  high  with  fear  lest  after  all  the  rich  guy 
might  arrive  before  he  was  ready  for  him.  When  the 
obstruction  was  finished  he  got  out  a  large  piece  of  card 
board  which  had  been  fastened  to  the  handle  bars  of 
his  wheel,  and  from  a  box  also  fastened  on  behind  his  sad- 
dle he  produced  his  can  of  paint  and  a  brush.  The  moon 
was  beginning  to  show  off  at  his  right,  and  gave  a  faint 
luminus  gleam,  as  he  daubed  his  letters  in  crudely. 
''DETOUR  to  SABBATH  VALLEY. 
Rode  flooded.    Brige  down." 

His  card  was  large,  but  so  were  his  letters.  Neverthe- 
less in  spite  of  their  irregularity  he  got  them  all  on,  and 
fastened  the  card  firmly  to  the  most  obvious  spot  in  the 
barricade.  Then  with  a  wicked  gleam. of  mischief  in  his 
eye  he  looked  off  down  the  Highway  across  the  ridge  to 
where  some  two  miles  away  one  Pat  must  be  awaiting  his 
coming,  and  gave  a  single  mocking  gesture  common  to 
boys  of  his  age.  Springing  on  his  wheel  he  coasted  down 
the  humps  and  into  the  darkness  again. 

He  reflected  as  he  rode  that  no  harm  could  possibly  be 
done.  The  road  inspector  would  not  be  along  for  a  couple 
of  days.  It  would  simply  mean  that  a  number  of  cars 
would  go  around  by  the  way  of  Sabbath  Valley  for  a  day 
or  so.  It  might  break  up  a  little  of  the  quiet  of  the  Sabbath 
day  at  home,  but  Billy  did  not  feel  that  that  would 
permanently  injure  Sabbath  Valley  for  home  purposes, 
and  he  felt  sure  that  no  one  could  possibly  ever  detect  his 
hand  in  the  matter. 

The  road  at  the  forks  led  four  ways.  Highway,  coming 
from  New  York  and  the  Great  North  East,  running  North 
and  South,  and  the  Cross  road  coming  from  Economy 
and  running  through  Sabbath  Valley  to  Monopoly.  He 
had  made  the  Detour  below  the  Cross  Road,  so  that  people 
coming  from  Economy  would  find  no  hindrance  to  their 
progress.  He  felt  great  satisfaction  in  the  whole  matter, 
s 


34  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

And  now  there  remained  but  to  do  his  part  and  get  his 
money.  He  thought  he  saw  a  way  to  make  sure  of  that 
money,  and  his  conscience  had  no  qualms  for  extracting  it 
from  so  crooked  a  thief  as  Pat. 

The  clock  on  the  church  tower  at  Sabbath  Valley  was 
finishing  the  last  stroke  of  eleven  when  Billy  came  slickly 
up  the  slope  of  the  road  from  Sabbath  Valley,  and  arrived 
on  the  station  platform  nonchalantly. 

By  the  light  of  the  moon  he  could  dimly  see  Pat 
standing  uneasily  off  by  the  tracks,  and  the  heads  of  two 
men  down  below  in  the  bushes  near  the  lower  end  of  the 
Highway  where  it  crossed  the  tracks  and  swept  on  South 
between  two  mountains. 

Pat  held  his  watch  in  his  hand  and  looked  very  ugly, 
but  nothing  fazed  Billy.  He  didn't  have  to  carry  this  thing 
out  if  he  didn't  want  to,  and  the  man  knew  he  knew  too 
much  to  be  ugly  to  him. 

"  There  you  are,  you  young  Pill  you !  "  was  Pat's 
greeting,  "  What  kinduva  time  is  this  'ere  to  be  coming 
along  to  your  expensive  job?    I  said  eight!'' 

"  Oh,"  said  Billy  with  a  shrug  and  jimiped  to  his  wheel 
again,  "  Then  I  guess  I'll  be  going  back.    Good  night !  '* 

"  Here !  Wait  up  there,  you  young  devil !  You  come 
mighty  nigh  dishing  the  whole  outfit,  but  now  you're  here, 
you'll  earn  your  ten  bucks  I  was  fool  enough  to  give  you, 
but  nothing  more,  do  you  hear  that  ?  "  and  the  man  leered 
into  his  freckled  young  face  with  an  ugly  gun  in  his  hand. 

Billy  eyed  the  gun  calmly.  He  had  seen  guns  before. 
Moreover  he  didn't  believe  the  man  had  the  nerve  to  shoot. 
He  wasn't  quite  so  sure  of  the  two  dark  shadows  in  the 
bushes  below,  but  it  was  well  to  be  on  the  safe  side. 

"  Keep  yer  shirt  on,"  said  Billy  impertinently,  "  and 
save  yer  powder.  You  don't  want  the  whole  nation  to 
know  about  this  little  affair  of  ours  do  you  Patf  " 

The  wide  one  glared. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  35 

"  Well,  you  better  not  have  anything  like  shooting 
going  on,  f er  IVe  got  some  friends  back  here  a  little  way 
waiting  to  joy  ride  back  with  me  when  my  work's  over. 
They  might  get  funny  if  they  heard  a  gun  and  come 
too  soon." 

**  You  little  devil,  you !  I  mighta  known  you'd  give  it 
away — ! "  he  began,  but  he  lowered  the  gun  perceptibly. 
"  Every  little  skunk  like  you  is  yella — ^yella  as  the  devil — '' 

But  Pat  did  not  finish  his  sentence,  for  Billy,  with  a 
blaze  in  his  eyes  like  the  lamps  of  a  tiger,  and  a  fierce  young 
cat-like  leap  flew  at  the  flabby  creature,  wrenched  the  gun 
out  of  his  astonished  hand,  and  before  he  could  make  any 
outer}'  held  it  tantalizingly  in  his  face.  Billy  had  never 
had  any  experience  before  with  bullies  and  bandits  except 
in  his  dreams;  but  he  had  played  football,  and  tackled 
every  team  in  the  Valley,  and  he  had  no  fear  of  anything. 
Moreover  he  had  spent  long  hours  boxing  and  wrestling 
with  Mark  Carter,  and  he  was  hard  as  nails  and  wiry  as 
a  cat.  The  fat  one  was  completely  in  his  hands.  Of 
course  those  other  two  down  across  the  tracks  might  have 
made  trouble  if  Pat  had  cried  out,  but  they  were  too  far 
away  to  see  or  hear  the  silent  scuffle  on  the  platform.  But 
Billy  was  taking  no  chances. 

"  Now,  keep  on  yer  shirt,  Pat,  and  don't  make  no  out- 
cry. My  friends  can  get  here's  easy  as  yours,  so  just  take 
it  quiet.  All  you  gotta  do  is  take  that  remark  back  you 
just  uttered.  I  ain't  yella,  and  you  gotta  say  so.  Then  you 
hand  over  those  fifteen  bones,  and  I'm  yer  man." 

It  was  incredible  that  Pat  should  have  succumbed,  but 
he  did.  Perhaps  he  was  none  too  sure  of  his  friends  in 
the  bushes.  Certainly  the  time  was  getting  short  and  he  was 
in  a  hurry  to  get  to  his  job  on  the  Highway.  Also  he  had 
no  mind  for  being  discovered  or  interrupted.  At  any  rate 
with  a  hoarse  little  laugh  of  pretended  courage  he  put  his 
hand  in  his  baggy  pocket  and  pulled  out  the  bills. 


36  THE  CITY  OF  FERE 

"  You  win,  Kid,"  he  admitted,  "  I  guess  your^e  all 
white.  An3rthing  to  please  the  baby  and  get  down  to  biz. 
Now,  sonny,  put  that  gun  away,  it  don't  look  well.  Be- 
sides, I — got  another."  He  put  his  hand  insinuatingly  to 
his  hip  pocket  with  a  grin,  but  Billy's  grin  answered  back : 

"  That's  all  right,  pard.  I'll  just  keep  this  one  awhile 
then.    You  don't  need  two.     Now,  what's  wanted?" 

Pat  edged  away  from  the  boy  and  measured  him  with 
his  eye.  The  moon  was  coming  up  and  Billy  loomed  large 
in  the  darkness.  There  was  a  determined  set  to  his  firm 
young  shoulders,  a  lithe  alertness  about  his  build,  and  a 
fine  glint  in  his  eye.  Pat  was  really  a  coward.  Besides, 
Pat  was  getting  nervous.  The  hidden  telephone  had  called 
him  several  times  already.  He  could  hear  even  now  in 
imagination  its  faint  click  in  the  moss.  The  last  message 
had  said  that  the  car  had  passed  the  state  line  and  would 
soon  be  coming  to  the  last  point  of  communication.  After 
that  it  was  the  mountain  highway  straight  to  Pleasant 
View,  nothing  to  hinder.  It  was  not  a  time  to  waste  in 
discussion.    Pat  dropped  to  an  ingratiating  whine. 

"  Come  along  then.  Kid.  Yes,  bring  your  wheel. 
We'll  want  it.  Down  thi^  way,  just  over  the  tracks,  so, 
see  ?  We  want  you  to  fall  off  that  there  wheel  an'  sprawl 
in  the  road  like  you  had  caught  yer  wheel  on  the  track  an' 
it  had  skidded,  see  ?  Try  her  now,  and  just  lay  there  like 
you  was  off  your  feed." 

Billy  slung  himself  across  his  wheel,  gave  a  cursory 
glance  at  the  landscape,  took  a  nmning  slide  over  the  tracks 
with  a  swift  pedal  or  two  and  slumped  in  a  heap,  lying 
motionless  as  the  dead.  He  couldn't  have  done  it  more 
effectively  if  he  had  practised  for  a  week.  Pat  caught  his 
breath  and  stooped  over  anxiously.  He  didn't  want  a 
death  at  the  start.  He  wouldn't  care  to  be  responsible  for 
a  concussion  of  the  brain  or  anything  like  that.  Besides, 
he  couldn't  waste  time  fooling  with  a  fool  kid  when  the 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  37 

real  thing  might  be  along  any  minute.  He  glanced  anx- 
iously up  the  broad  white  ribbon  of  a  road  that  gleamed 
now  in  the  moonlight,  and  then  pulling  out  his  pocket  flash, 
flooded  it  swiftly  over  Billy's  upturned  freckled  face  that 
lay  there  still  as  death  without  the  flicker  of  an  eyelash. 
The  man  was  panic-stricken.  He  stooped  lower,  put  out  a 
tentative  finger,  turned  his  flash  full  in  the  boy's  face 
again,  and  was  just  about  to  call  to  his  helpers  for  aid 
when  Billy  opened  a  large  eye  and  solemnly  winked. 

Pat  shut  off  his  flash  quickly,  stuck  it  in  his  pocket 
backed  off  with  a  low  relieved,  "  All  right  Kid,  you'll  do.  I 
guess  you're  all  right  after  all,  now  you  jest  lay — !  "  and 
slid  away  down  the  slope  into  the  C)^ress  clump. 

Billy  with  upturned  face  eyed  the  moon  and  winked 
again,  as  if  to  a  friend  up  there  in  the  sky.  He  was 
thinking  of  the  detour  two  miles  up  the  road. 

It  was  very  pleasant  lying  there  in  the  cool  moonlighti 
with  the  evening  breeze  blowing  his  rough  hair  and  play- 
ing over  his  freckles,  and  with  the  knowledge  of  those 
twenty-four  bucks  safely  buttoned  inside  his  sweater,  and 
that  neat  little  gun  in  his  pocket  where  he  could  easily  close 
his  fingers  about  it.  The  only  thing  he  regretted  was  that 
for  conscience  sake  he  had  had  to  put  up  that  detour.  It 
would  have  been  so  much  more  exciting  than  to  have 
put  up  this  all-night  camouflage  and  wait  here  till  dawn 
for  a  guy  that  wasn't  coming  at  all.  He  began  to  think 
about  the  "  guy ''  and  wonder  if  he  would  take  the  detour 
to  Sabbath  Valley,  or  turn  back,  or  perhaps  try  Economy. 
That  would  be  disappointing.  He  would  stand  no  chance 
of  even  hearing  what  like  he  was.  Now  if  he  went  through 
Sabbath  Valley,  Red  or  Sloppy  or  Rube  would  be  sure  to 
sight  a  strange  car,  particularly  if  it  was  a  high  power 
racer  or  something  of  that  sort,  and  they  could  discuss  it, 
and  he  might  be  able  to  find  out  a  few  points  about  this 
unknown  whom  he  was  so  nobly  delivering  for  conscience 


38  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

sake — or  Lynn  Severn's — from  an  unknown  fate.  Of 
course  he  wouldn't  let  the  fellows  know  he  knew  anything 
about  the  guy. 

He  had  lain  there  fifteen  minutes  and  was  beginning 
to  grow  drowsy  after  his  full  day  in  the  open  air.  If  it 
were  not  for  the  joke  of  the  thing  he  couldn't  keep  awake. 

Pat  stole  out  from  the  weeds  at  the  slope  of  the  road 
and  whispered  sepulchraly: 

"  That's  all  right,  Kid,  jest  you  lay  there  and  hold  that 
pose.  You  couldn't  do  better.  Yer  wheel  finishes  the 
blockade.  Nobody  couldn't  get  by  if  he  tried.  That's  the 
Kid !  'Clare  if  I  don't  give  you  another  five  bucks  t'morrer 
if  you  carry  this  thing  through.  Don't  you  get  cold 
feet  now — !  " 

Billy  uttered  a  guttural  of  contempt  in  his  throat  and 
Pat  slid  away  to  hiding  once  more.  The  distant  bells 
struck  the  midnight  hour.  Billy  thrilled  with  their  sweet- 
ness, with  the  fact  that  they  belonged  to  him,  that  he  had 
sat  that  very  evening  watching  those  white  fingers  among 
the  keys,  manipulating  them.  He  thought  of  the  glint  on 
her  hair, — the  halo  of  dusty  gold  in  the  sunshine  above — 
the  light  in  her  eyes — the  glow  of  her  cheek — ^her  delicate 
profile  against  the  memorial  window — ^the  glint  of  her 
hair — it  came  back,  not  in  those  words,  but  the  vision  of 
it — what  was  it  like  ?  Oh — of  course.  Cart's  hair.  The 
same  color.  They  were  alike,  those  two,  and  yet  very  dif- 
ferent. When  he  had  grown  a  man  he  would  like  to  be 
like  Cart.  Cart  was  kind  and  always  understood  when  you 
were  not  feeling  right.  Cart  smoothed  the  way  for  people 
in  trouble — old  women  and  animals,  and  well — girls 
sometimes.  He  had  seen  him  do  it.  Other  people  didn't 
always  understand,  but  he  did.  Cart  always  had  a  reason. 
It  took  men  to  understand  men.  That  thought  had  a  good 
sound  to  the  boy  on  his  back  in  the  moonlight.  Although 
he  felt  somewhat  a  fool  lying  there  waiting  in  the  road 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  39 

when  all  the  time  there  was  that  Detour.  It  would  have 
been  more  a  man's  job  if  there  hadn't  had  to  be  tha: 
Detour,  but  he  couldn't  run  risks  with  strange  guys,  and 
men  who  carried  guns,  not  even  for — well,  thirty  pieces  of 
silver — !  But  hark !  What  was  that  ? 

There  seemed  to  be  a  singing  along  the  ground.  Was 
he  losing  his  nerve  lying  here  so  long?  No,  there  it  was 
again !  It  couldn't  be  possible  that  he  could  hear  so  far  as 
two  miles  up  that  road.  It  was  hard  and  smooth  macadam 
of  course,  that  highway,  but  it  couldn't  be  that — ^what  was 
it  they  called  it? — vibrations? — would  reach  so  far!  It 
must  be.    He  would  ask  Cart  about  that. 

The  humming  continued  and  grew  more  distinct,  fol- 
lowed by  a  sort  of  throbbing  roar  that  seemed  coming  tow- 
ard him,  and  yet  was  still  very  far  away.  It  must  be  a  car 
at  the  Detour.  In  a  moment  it  would  turn  down  the  bumpy 
road  toward  Sabbath  Valley,  and  very  likely  some  of  those 
old  broken  whiskey  bottles  along  the  way  would  puncture 
a  tire  and  the  guy  would  take  till  morning  getting  any- 
where. Perhaps  he  could  even  get  away  in  time  to  come 
up  innocently  enough  and  help  him  out.  A  guy  like  that 
might  not  know  how  to  patch  a  puncture. 

But  the  sound  was  distinctly  coming  on.  Billy  opened 
one  eye,  then  the  other,  and  hastily  scanned  the  sky  in 
either  direction  for  an  aeroplane,  but  the  sky  was  as  clear 
as  crystal  without  a  speck,  and  the  sound  was  distinctly 
drawing  nearer. 

A  voice  from  the  roadside  hurtled  sharply  across: 

"Hist!  There!  He's  coming!  Lay  still!  Remember 
you  get  five  more  bucks  if  you  pull  this  off !  " 

A  cold  chill  crept  down  Billy's  back  on  tiny  needle- 
pointed  fringe  of  feet  like  a  centipede.  There  was  a  sudden 
constriction  in  his  throat  and  a  leaden  weight  on  each 
eye.  He  could  not  have  opened  them  if  he  had  tried,  for  a 
great  white  light  stabbed  across  them  and  seemed  to  be 


40  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

holding  them  down  for  inspection.  The  thing  he  had 
wanted  to  have  happen  had  come,  and  he  was  frightened ; 
frightened  cold  clear  to  the  soul  of  him — ^not  at  the  thing 
that  was  about  to  come,  but  at  the  fact  that  he  had  broken 
faith  with  himself  after  all ;  broken  faith  with  the  haloed 
girl  at  the  organ  in  the  golden  light;  broken  faith — for 
thirty  pieces  of  silver!  In  that  awful  moment  he  was 
keenly  conscious  of  the  fact  that  when  he  got  the  other  five 
there  would  be  just  thirty  dollars  for  the  whole !  Thirty 
pieces  of  silver  and  the  judgment  day  already  coming  on! 


IV 


Lynn  Severn  was  restless  as  she  sat  on  the  porch  in 
the  cool  dark  evening  and  heard  unheeding  the  small  village 
sounds  that  stole  to  her  ears.  The  laughter  of  two  children 
playing  hide  and  seek  behind  the  bushes  across  the  way ; 
the  call  of  their  mother  summoning  them  to  bed.  The 
tinkle  of  a  piano  down  the  street;  the  whine  of  a  Victrola 
in  another  home ;  the  cry  of  a  baby  in  pain ;  the  murmur  of 
talk  on  the  porch  next  door ;  the  slamming  of  a  door ;  the 
creak  of  a  gate ;  footsteps  going  down  the  brick  pavement ; 
the  swinging  to  and  fro  of  a  hammock  holding  happy  lovers 
under  the  rose  pergola  at  Joneses.  She  could  identify  them 
all,  and  found  her  heart  was  listening  for  another  sound, 
a  smooth  running  car  that  purred,  coming  down  the  street. 
But  it  did  not  come ! 

By  and  by  she  slipped  out  and  into  the  church,  opening 
one  window  to  let  in  the  moonlight,  and  unlocking  the  organ 
by  the  sense  of  feeling.  Her  fingers  strayed  along  the  keys 
in  tender  wandering  melodies,  but  she  did  not  pull  the 
stop  that  controlled  the  bells.  She  would  have  liked  to 
play  those  bells  and  call  through  them  to  Mark  across  the 
moimtains  where  he  might  be  riding,  call  to  tell  him  that 
she  was  waiting,  call  to  ask  him  why  he  was  so  strangely 
aloof,  so  silent,  and  pale  in  his  dignity;  what  had  come 
between  them,  old  friends  of  the  years  ?  She  felt  she  could 
say  with  the  bells  what  her  lips  could  never  speak.  But  the 
bells  would  cry  her  trouble  to  the  villagers  also,  and  she 
could  not  let  them  hear.  So  she  played  soft  melodies  of 
trust  and  hope  and  patience,  until  her  father  came  to  find 
her,  and  linking  his  arm  in  hers  walked  back  with  her 
through  the  moonlight,  not  asking  anything,  only  seeming 
to  understand  her  mood.    He  was  that  way  always.     He 

41 


42  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

could  understand  without  being  told.  Somehow  she  felt 
it  and  was  comforted.  He  was  that  way  with  everybody. 
It  was  what  made  him  so  beloved  in  his  parish,  which 
comprised  the  whole  Valley,  that  and  his  great  sincerity 
and  courage.  But  always  his  sense  of  understanding 
seemed  keenest  with  this  flower-faced  girl  of  his.  He 
seemed  to  have  gone  ahead  of  her  way  always  to  see  that 
all  was  right — or  wrong — and  then  walked  with  her  to  be 
sure  she  did  not  stumble  or  miss  her  way.  He  never  at- 
teimpted  to  reason  her  out  of  herself,  nor  to  minimize  her 
trials,  but  was  just  there,  a  strong  hold  when  she  needed  it. 
She  looked  up  with  a  smile  and  slipped  her  hand  in  his. 
She  understood  his  perfect  sympathy,  as  if  his  own  past 
youth  were  touching  hers  and  making  her  know  that  what- 
ever it  was  she  had  to  face  she  w^ould  come  through.  He 
was  like  a  symbol  of  God's  strength  to  her.  Somehow  the 
weight  was  lifted  from  her  heart.  They  lingered  on  the 
piazza  together  in  the  moonlight  a  few  minutes,  speaking 
quietly  of  the  morrow  and  its  duties,  then  they  went  into 
the  wide  pleasant  living  room,  and  sat  down,  mother  and 
daughter  near  together,  while  the  father  read  a  portion : 

"  He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  most  High  shall 
abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty. 

"  I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  he  is  my  refuge  and  my  fortress :  my 
God;  in  him  will  I  trust. 

"  Surely  he  shall  deliver  thee  from  the  snare  of  the  fowler,  and 
from  the  noisome  pestilence. 

"He  shall  cover  thee  with  his  feathers,  and  under  his  wings 
shalt  thou  trust." 

The  words  seemed  to  fill  the  room  with  a  sweet  peace, 
and  to  draw  the  hearts  of  the  listeners  as  a  Voice  that  is 
dear  draws  and  soothes  after  a  day  of  separation  and  tur- 
moil and  distress. 

They  knelt  and  the  minister's  voice  spoke  familiarly 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  43 

to  the  Unseen  Presence,  giving  thanks  for  mercies  received, 
mentioning  Httle  throbbing  personalities  that  belonged  to 
them  as  a  family  and  as  individuals,  reminding  one  of  what 
it  must  have  been  in  the  days  before  Sin  had  come  and 
Adam  walked  and  talked  with  God  in  the  cool  of  the  even- 
ing, and  received  instruction  and  strengthening  straight 
from  the  Source.  One  listening  would  instinctively  have 
felt  that  here  was  the  secret  of  the  great  strength  of  Lynn 
Severn's  life ;  the  reason  why  neither  college  nor  the  v/orld 
had  been  able  to  lure  her  one  iota  from  her  great  and  simple 
faith  which  she  had  brought  with  her  from  her  Valley 
home  and  taken  back  again  imsullied.  This  family  altar 
was  the  heart  of  her  home,  and  had  brought  her  so  near  to 
God  that  she  knew  what  she  had  believed  and  could  not 
be  shaken  from  it  by  any  flippant  words  from  lovely  or 
wise  lips  that  only  knew  the  theory  of  her  belief  and 
nothing  of  its  spirit  and  tried  to  argue  it  away  with  a  fine 
phrase  and  a  laugh. 

So  Lynn  went  up  to  her  little  white  chamber  that 
looked  out  upon  the  quiet  hills,  knelt  awhile  beside  the 
>vhite  bed  in  the  moonlight,  then  lay  down  and  slept. 

Out  among  the  hills  on  the  long  smooth  road  in  the  white 
moonlight  there  shot  a  car  like  a  living  thing  gone  crazy, 
blaring  a  whiter  light  than  the  moonlight  down  the  way, 
roaring  and  thundering  as  only  a  costly  and  well  groomed 
beast  of  a  machine  can  roar  and  thunder  when  it  is  driven 
by  hot  blood  and  a  mad  desire,  stimulated  by  frequent 
applications  from  a  handy  flask,  and  a  will  that  has  never 
known  a  curb. 

He  knew  it  was  a  mad  thing  he  was  doing,  rushing 
across  space  through  the  dark  at  the  beck  of  a  woman's 
smile,  a  woman  who  was  another  man's  wife,  but  a  woman 
who  had  set  on  fire  a  whole  circle  of  men  of  which  he  was 
a  part.    He  was  riding  against  all  caution  to  win  a  bet, 


44  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

riding  against  time  to  get  there  before  two  other  men  who 
were  riding  as  hard  from  other  directions  to  win  the 
woman  who  belonged  to  an  absent  husband,  win  her  and  run 
away  with  her  if  he  could.  It  was  the  culmination  of  a 
year  of  extravagances,  the  last  cry  in  sensations,  and  the 
telephone  wires  had  been  hot  with  daring,  wild  allurement, 
and  mad  threat  in  several  directions  since  late  the 
night  before. 

The  woman  was  in  a  great  summer  hotel  where 
extravagances  of  all  sorts  are  in  vogue,  and  it  had  been 
her  latest  game  to  call  with  her  lute-like  voice  over  the 
phone  to  three  of  her  men  friends  who  had  wooed  her 
the  strongest,  daring  them  all  to  come  to  her  at  once,  prom- 
ising to  fly  with  the  one  who  reached  her  first,  but  if  none 
reached  her  before  morning  dawned  she  remained  as  she 
was  and  laughed  at  them  all. 

Laurence  Shafton  had  closed  with  the  challenge  at 
once  and  given  orders  for  his  car  to  be  ready  to  start  in  ten 
minutes.  From  a  southern  city  about  an  equal  distance 
from  the  lady,  one  Percy  Emerson,  of  the  Wellington- 
Emersons,  started  about  the  same  time,  leaving  a  trail  of 
telegrams  and  phone  messages  to  be  sent  after  his  de- 
parture. The  third  man,  Mortimer  McMarter,  a  hot- 
headed, hot-blooded  scot,  had  started  with  the  rest,  for 
the  lady  knew  her  lovers  well,  and  not  one  would  refuse ; 
but  he  was  lying  dead  at  a  wayside  inn  with  his  car  a  heap 
of  litter  outside  from  having  collided  with  a  truck  that  was 
minding  its  own  business  and  giving  plenty  of  room  to  any 
sane  man.  This  one  was  not  sane.  But  of  this  happening 
not  even  the  lady  knew  as  yet,  for  Mortimer  McMarter 
was  not  one  to  leave  tales  behind  him  when  he  went  out 
of  life,  and  the  servants  who  had  sent  his  messages  were 
far  away. 

The  clock  in  the  car  showed  nearly  twelve  and  the 
>vay  was  long  ahead.     But  he  would  make  it  before  the 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  45 

dawn.  He  must.  He  stepped  on  the  accelerator  and  shot 
round  a  curve.  A  dizzy  precipice  yawned  at  his  side.  He 
took  another  pull  at  the  flask  he  carried  and  shot  on  wildly 
through  the  night.  Then  suddenly  he  ground  on  his 
brakes,  the  machine  twisted  and  snarled  like  an  angry  beast 
and  came  to  a  stand  almost  into  the  arms  of  a  barricade 
across  the  road.  The  young  man  hurled  out  an  oath,  and 
leaned  forward  to  look,  his  eyes  almost  too  blood-shot 
and  blurred  to  read : 

"DETOUR  to  Sabbath  Valley! " 

He  laughed  aloud.  "  Sabbath  Valley!  "  He  swore  and 
laughed  again,  then  looked  down  the  way  the  rude  arrow 
pointed,  "  Well,  I  like  that!  Sabbath  Valley.  That'll  be 
a  good  joke  to  tell,  but  I'll  make  it  yet  or  land  in  hell — !  " 
He  started  his  car  and  twisted  it  round  to  the  rougher 
road,  feeling  the  grind  of  the  broken  glass  that  strewed 
the  way.  Billy  had  done  his  work  thoroughly,  and  antici- 
pated well  what  would  happen.  But  those  tires  were  costly 
affairs.  They  did  not  yield  to  the  first  cut  that  came, 
and  the  expensive  car  built  for  racing  on  roads  as  smooth 
as  glass  bumped  and  jogged  down  into  the  ruts  and 
started  toward  Sabbath  Valley,  with  the  driver  pulling 
again  at  his  almost  empty  flask,  and  swaying  giddily  in 
his  seat.  Half  a  mile  farther  down  the  mountain,  the  car 
gave  a  gasp,  like  the  flitting  soul  of  a  dying  lion,  and  came 
with  sudden  grinding  breaks  to  a  dead  stop  in  the  heart  of 
a  deep  wood. 

Five  minutes  later  another  car,  with  a  soft  purring 
engine  came  up  to  the  Crossroads  from  Economy,  slowed 
just  a  fraction  as  it  crossed  the  Highway,  the  driver  looking 
keenly  at  the  barricade,  then  stopping  his  car  with  a  sudden 
jerk  and  swinging  out.  He  turned  a  Jx>cket  flash  on  the 
big  card  board  Billy  had  erected,  its  daubed  letters  still  wet 
and  blurring  into  the  pasteboard.  He  looked  a  bit  quizzical 


46  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

over  the  statement,  "RODE  FLOODED,  BRIGE 
DOWN,*'  because  he  happened  to  know  there  was  no 
bridge  and  nothing  to  flood  the  road  for  several  miles 
ahead.  He  examined  the  barricade  carefully,  even  down 
to  the  broken  glass  in  the  road,  then  deliberately,  swiftly, 
with  his  foot  kicked  away  the  glass,  cleared  a  width  for 
his  car,  and  jumping  in  backed  up,  turned  and  started 
slowly  down  the  condemned  road  to  investigate.  Some- 
thing was  wrong  down  the  highway,  and  the  sooner  it  was 
set  right  the  better.  There  was  one  thing,  he  wished  he 
had  his  gun  with  him,  but  then — !  And  he  swung  on 
down  for  two  miles,  going  faster  and  faster,  seeing 
nothing  but  white  still  road,  and  quiet  sleeping  trees,  with 
looming  mountains  against  the  sky  everywhere.  Then, 
suddenly,  across  the  way  in  the  blare  of  his  lights  a  white 
face  flashed  into  view,  and  a  body,  lying  full  across  the 
road,  with  a  bicycle  flung  to  one  side  completing  the  block. 
He  brought  his  car  to  a  quick  stand  and  jumped  out,  but 
before  he  could  take  one  step  or  even  stoop,  someone 
caught  him  from  behind,  and  something  big  and  dark 
and  smothering  was  flung  over  his  head.  A  heavy  blow 
seemed  to  send  him  whirling,  whirling  down  into  infinite 
space,  with  a  long  tongue  of  living  fire  leaping  up  to 
greet  him. 

"  Beat  it.  Kid,  and  keep  yer  face  shut ! ''  hissed  Pat 
into  Billy's  ear,  at  the  same  time  stuffing  a  bill  into 
his  hand. 

Billy  had  just  sense  enough  left  to  follow  the  assisting 
kick  and  roll  himself  out  of  the  road,  with  a  snatch  at 
his  machine  which  pulled  it  down  out  of  sight.  He  had  a 
secret  feeling  that  he  was  "  yellow  "  after  all  in  spite  of 
his  efforts,  letting  a  guy  get  taken  this  way  without  even  a 
chance  to  put  up  a  fight.  Where  was  that  gun?  He 
reached  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  was  steadied  by  the 
feeling  of  the  cold  steel    Then  he  knew  that  the  men' were 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  47 

in  the  car  and  were  about  to  start.  They  had  dumped  the 
owner  into  the  back  seat  and  were  going  to  carry  him  off 
somewhere.  What  were  they  going  to  do?  He  must 
find  out.  He  was  responsible.  He  hadn't  meant  to  let 
anything  like  this  happen.  If  everything  wasn't  going  to 
be  on  the  square  he  might  have  to  get  into  it  yet.  He  must 
stick  around  and  see. 

The  men  were  having  a  whispered  consultation  over  the 
car.  They  were  not  used  to  that  kind,  but  a  car  was  a  car. 
They  tried  to  start  it  with  nervous  glances  down  the  road. 
It  jerked  and  hissed  and  complained  but  began  to  obey. 
The  wheels  were  beginning  to  move.  In  a  flash  it  would 
be  gone! 

Billy  scrambled  noiselessly  up  the  bank  behind  the  car, 
his  move  well  covered  by  the  noise  of  the  engine.  With 
a  quick  survey  of  the  situation  he  tucked  himself  hastily 
into  the  spare  tire  on  the  back,  just  as  the  car  gave  a  lurch 
and  shot  forward  down  across  the  tracks.  He  had  all  he 
could  do  to  maintain  his  position  and  worm  himself  into  a 
firmer  holding  for  the  first  minute  or  two,  and  when  he 
began  to  realize  what  he  was  doing  he  found  his  heart 
beating  like  a  young  trip  hammer.  He  slid  a  groping  hand 
into  his  pocket  once  more  for  reassurance.  If  anything 
really  happened  he  had  the  gun. 

But  his  heart  was  heavy.  Things  had  not  gone  right 
He  had  planned  to  carry  this  thing  through  as  a  large  joke, 
and  here  he  was  mixed  up  in  a  crooked  deal  if  ever  there 
was  one.  The  worst  of  it  was  he  wasn't  out  of  it  yet.  He 
wished  he  knew  whose  car  this  was  and  where  they  were 
bound  for.  How  about  the  license  tag?  Gripping  his 
unstable  seat  he  swayed  forward  and  tried  to  see  it  just 
below  him.  In  the  dim  light  it  looked  like  a  New  York 
license.  It  must  be  the  guy  they  were  after  all  right, — ^ 
they  had  telephoned  about  a  New  York  man — yet — Cart 
tad  a  New  York  license  on  his  car!    He  was  living  in 


48  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

New  York  now, — and  there  must  be  lots  of  other  guys — ! 

A  kind  of  sickening  thud  seemed  to  drop  through  his 
mind  down  to  the  pit  of  his  stomach  as  he  tried  to  think  it 
out.  His  eyes  peered  into  the  night  watching  every  familiar 
landmark — ^there  was  the  old  pine  where  they  always 
turned  off  to  go  fishing ;  and  yes,  they  were  turning  away 
from  Economy  road.  Yes,  they  were  going  through 
Hackett's  Pass.  A  chill  crept  through  his  thin  old  sweater 
as  the  damp  breath  of  ferns  and  rocks  struck  against  his 
face.  His  eyes  shone  grim  and  hard  in  the  night,  suddenly 
grown  old  and  stem.  This  was  the  kind  of  thing  you  read 
about  in  novels.  In  spite  of  pricks  of  conscience  his  spirits 
rose.  It  was  great  to  be  in  it  if  it  had  to  be.  The  conscious- 
ness of  Sabbath  Valley  bathed  in  peaceful  moonlight,  all 
asleep,  of  the  minister  and  his  daughter,  and  Aunt  Saxon, 
fell  away ;  even  the  memory  of  bells  that  called  to  righteous- 
ness— he  was  out  in  the  night  on  a  wild  ride  and  his  soul 
thrilled  to  the  measure  of  it.  He  fairly  exulted  as  he  re- 
flected that  he  might  be  called  upon  to  do  some  great  deed 
of  valor — in  fact  he  felt  he  must  do  a  great  deed  of  valor 
to  retrieve  his  self  respect  after  having  made  that  balk 
about  the  detour.  How  did  that  guy  get  around  the  detour 
anyway  ?    Some  guy  I 

Hackett's  Pass  was  far  behind  and  the  moon  was 
going  low  when  the  car  stopped  for  a  moment  and  a  hurried 
consultation  took  place  inside.  Billy  couldn't  hear  all  that 
was  said,  but  he  gathered  that  time  was  short  and  the 
conspirators  must  be  back  at  a  certain  place  before  morn- 
ing. They  seemed  somehow  to  have  missed  a  trail  that 
was  to  have  cut  the  distance  greatly.  Billy  clung  breath- 
lessly to  his  cramped  position  and  waited.  He  hoped  they 
wouldn't  gtt  out  and  try  to  find  the  way,  for  then  some  of 
them  might  see  him,  and  he  was  so  stiff  he  was  sure  he 
would  bungle  getting  out  of  the  way.  But  after  a  breath- 
less moment  the  car  started  on  more  slowly,  and  finally 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  49 

turned  down  a  steep  rough  place,  scarcely  a  trail,  Into  the 
deeper  woods.  For  a  long  time  they  went  along,  slower 
and  slower,  into  the  blackness  of  night  it  seemed.  There 
was  no  moon,  and  the  men  had  turned  off  the  lights.  There 
was  nothing  but  a  pocket  flash  which  one  of  them  carried, 
and  turned  on  now  and  again  to  show  them  the  way.  The 
engine  too  was  muffled  and  went  snuffing  along  through 
the  night  like  a  blind  thing  that  had  been  gagged.  Billy 
began  to  wonder  if  he  would  ever  find  his  legs  useful 
again.  Sharp  pains  shot  through  his  joints,  and  he  became 
aware  of  sleep  dropping  upon  his  straining  eyes  like  a 
sickening  cloud.    Yet  he  must  keep  awake. 

He  squirmed  about  and  changed  his  position,  staring 
into  the  darkness  and  wondering  if  this  journey  was  ever 
to  end.  Now  they  were  bumping  down  a  bank,  and  slop- 
ping through  water,  not  very  deep,  a  small  moimtain 
stream  on  one  of  the  levels.  He  tried  to  think  where  it  must 
be,  but  was  puzzled.  They  seemed  to  have  traveled  part  of 
the  way  in  curves.  Twice  they  stopped  and  backed  up  and 
seemed  to  be  returning  on  their  tracks.  They  crossed  and 
recrossed  the  little  stream,  and  the  driver  was  cursing,  and 
insisting  on  more  light.  At  last  they  began  climbing  again 
and  the  boy  drew  a  breath  of  relief.  He  could  tell  better 
where  he  was  on  the  heights.  He  began  to  think  of  morn- 
ing and  Sabbath  Valley  bathed  in  its  Sabbath  peace,  with 
the  bells  chiming  a  call  to  worship — and  he  not  there! 
Aimt  Saxon  would  be  crazy!  She  would  bawl  him  out! 
He  should  worry!  and  she  would  weep,  pink  weak  tears 
from  her  old  thin  eyes,  that  seemed  to  have  never  done  much 
else  but  weep.  The  thought  turned  and  twisted  in  his  soul 
like  an  ugly  curved  knife  and  made  him  angry.  Tears 
always  made  him  angry.  And  Miss  Lynn — she  would 
watch  for  him — !  He  had  promised  to  be  there !  And  she 
would  not  understand — and  there  would  come  that  grieved 
look  in  her  eyes.  She  would  think — Oh,  she  would  think  he 

4 


50  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

did  not  want  to  come,  and  did  not  mean  to  keep  his  promise, 
and  things  like  that — and  she  would  have  to  think  them ! 
He  couldn't  help  it,  could  he?  He  Jmd  to  come  along, 
didn't  he?" 

In  the  midst  of  his  miserable  reflections  the  car  stopped 
dead  on  a  level  place  and  with  a  cold  perspiration  on  his 
forehead  Billy  peered  around  him.  They  must  have  reached 
the  top  of  a  ridge,  for  the  sky  was  visible  with  the  morning 
star  pinned  against  a  luminous  black.  Against  it  a  blacker 
shape  was  visible,  half  hid  in  trees,  a  building  of  some  sort, 
solid,  substantial,  but  deserted. 

The  men  were  getting  out  of  the  car.  Billy  gripped 
the  gun  and  dropped  silently  to  the  ground,  sliding  as 
stealthily  into  the  shadows  of  the  trees  as  if  he  had  been 
a  snake. 

Pat,  stepped  heavily  to  the  ground  and  began  to  give 
directions  in  a  low  growl.    Billy  crouched  and  listened. 

"  Let's  get  him  shifted  quick!  We  gotta  beat  it  outta 
here !  Link,  it's  up  to  you  an'  Shorty  to  get  this  car  over 
the  state  line  before  light,  an'  you'll  have  to  run  me  back 
to  the  Crossing  first,  so  I  can  be  at  the  station  in  time  for 
the  early  train.    That'll  be  going  some! " 

"  Well,  I  guess  anyhow  not,''  said  Link  sullenly, 
"  Whadda  ya  think  we  are  ?  Fools  ?  Run  you  back  to  the 
Crossing  in  a  pig's  eye.  You'll  foot  it  back  if  you  get 
there,  er  come  with  us.  We  ain't  gonta  get  caught  with  this 
car  on  our  hands.  What  we  gonta  do  with  it  anyhow, 
when  we  get  crost  the  state  line  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  run  it  into  the  field  off  behind  that  row  of 
alders.  Sam's  got  a  man  on  the  lookout.  They'll  have 
that  little  old  car  so  she  won't  recognize  her  best  friend 
before  you  can  count  three,  so  you  should  worry.  And 
you'll  run  me  back  or  you  won't  get  the  dough.  See  ?  I'll 
see  to  that.  Pat  said  I  wasn't  to  run  no  risks  fer  not  bein' 
back  in  time.    Now,   shift  that  guy's   feet  out  on  my 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  51 

sh£>ulder.  Handle  him  quick.  Nope,  he  won't  wake  up 
fer  two  hours  yet.  I  give  him  plenty  of  dope.  Got  them 
bracelets  tight  on  his  feet?  All  right  now.  He's  some 
hefty  bird,  ain't  he?  " 

They  moved  away  in  the  direction  of  the  building, 
carrying  a  long  dark  shape  between  them,  and  Billy  breath- 
less in  the  bushes,  watched,  turning  rapid  plans  in  his 
mind.  Here  he  was  in  the  midst  of  an  automobile  get- 
away! Many  the  time  he  had  gone  with  Mark  and  the 
Chief  of  Police  on  a  still  hunt  for  car  thieves,  but  this  time 
he  was  of  the  party.  His  loyal  young  heart  boiled  hot  with 
rage,  and  he  determined  to  do  what  he  could  single-handed 
to  stem  the  tide  of  crime.  Just  what  he  was  going  to  do 
he  was  undetermined.  One  thing  was  certain,  he  must  get 
the  number  of  that  license  tag.  He  looked  toward 
the  house. 

The  group  had  paused  with  their  burden  at  the  door 
and  Pat  had  turned  on  his  pocket  flash  light  for  just  an 
instant  as  they  fumbled  with  an  ancient  lock.  In  that 
instant  the  whole  front  of  the  old  stone  house  was  lit  up 
clearly,  and  Billy  gasped.  Th^  haunted  house !  The  house 
on  the  far  mountain  where  a  man  had  murdered  his 
brother  and  then  hanged  himself.  It  had  stood  empty  and 
closed  for  years,  ever  since  Billy  could  remember,  and  was 
shunned  and  regarded  with  awe,  and  pointed  out  by 
hunters  as  a  local  point  of  interest. 

Billy  regarded  with  contempt  the  superstition  that 
hung  around  the  place,  but  he  gasped  when  he  saw  where 
he  was,  for  they  must  have  come  twenty  miles  round  about 
and  it  was  at  least  ten  across  the  mountains  by  the  short  cut. 
Ten  miles  from  home,  and  he  had  to  foot  it!  If  he  had 
only  brought  old  trusty !  No  telling  now  whether  he  would 
ever  see  it  again.  But  what  were  bicycles  at  such  a  time 
as  this ! 

The  flash  had  gone  out  and  the  house  was  in  darkness 


52  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

again,  but  he  could  hear  the  grating  of  a  rusty  hinge  as  the 
door  opened,  and  faint  footfalls  of  rubbered  feet  shuffled 
on  a  dusty  floor.  Now  was  his  time !  He  darted  out  to 
the  back  of  the  car,  and  stooping  down  with  his  face  dose 
to  the  license,  holding  his  old  cap  in  one  hand  to  shelter 
it  drew  out  his  own  pocket  flash  and  turned  it  on  the  sign, 
registering  the  number  clearly  on  his  alert  young  mind. 
The  flash  light  was  on  its  last  breath  of  battery,  and  blinked 
asthmatically,  winking  out  into  a  thread  of  red  as  the  boy 
pressed  it  eagerly  for  one  more  look.  He  had  been  so 
intent  that  he  had  not  heard  the  rubbered  feet  till  they  were 
almost  upon  him,  and  he  had  barely  time  to  spring  back 
into  the  bushes. 

"  Hist !  What  was  that  ?  "  whispered  Pat,  and  the  three 
stopped  motionless  in  their  tracks.  Billy  held  his  breath 
and  touched  the  cold  steel  in  his  pocket.  Of  course  there 
was  always  the  gun,  but  what  was  one  gun  against  three  ? 


The  whistle  of  the  Cannery  at  Sabbath  Valley  blew  a 
relief  blast  five  minutes  ahead  of  midnight  in  deference  to 
the  church  chimes,  and  the  night  shift  which  had  been 
working  overtime  on  account  of  a  consignment  of  tomatoes 
that  would  not  keep  till  Monday,  poured  joyously  out  into 
the  road  and  scattered  to  their  various  homes. 

The  outmost  of  these  homegoers,  Tom  McMertrie  and 
Jim  Rafferty,  who  lived  at  the  other  extreme  of  the  village, 
came  upon  a  crippled  car,  coughing  and  crawling  toward 
them  in  front  of  the  Graveyard.  Its  driver,  much  sobered 
by  lack  of  stimulant,  and  frequent  necessity  for  getting  out 
and  pushing  his  car  over  hard  bits  of  road,  called  to 
them  noisily. 

The  two  workmen,  pleasant  of  mood,  ready  for  a  joke, 
not  altogether  averse  to  helping  if  this  proved  to  be  "  the 
right  guy,"  halted  and  stepped  into  the  road  just  to  look 
the  poor  noble  car  over.  It  was  the  lure  of  the 
fine  machine. 

'*  Met  with  an  accident?  "  Jim  remarked  affably,  as  if 
it  were  something  to  enjoy. 

"  Had  toire  thrubble  ?  "  added  Tom,  punching  the  col- 
lapsed tires. 

The  questions  seemed  to  anger  the  driver,  who  de- 
manded loftily : 

"  Where's  your  garage?  " 

"Garage?  Oh,  we  haven't  any  garage,"  said  Jim 
pleasantly,  with  a  mute  twinkle  in  his  Irish  eye. 

"  No  garage  ?  Haven't  any  garage !  What  town  is  this, 
— if  you  call  it  a  town?  " 

"  Why,  mon,  this  is  Sawbeth  Volley !  Shorely  yeVe 
heard  of  Sawbeth  Volley  I  '* 


54  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"No,  I  never  heard  of  it!"  said  the  stranger  con- 
temptuously, "  but  from  what  Fve  seen  of  it  so  far  I  should 
say  it  ought  to  be  called  Hell's  Pit !  Well,  what  do  you  do 
when  you  want  your  car  fixed  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  don't  hoppen  to  hove  a  cyar,"  said  Tom 
with  a  meditative  air,  stooping  to  examine  the  spokes  of  a 
v^heel,  "  Boot,  ef  we  hod  mon,  I'm  thenkin'  we'd  fix  it !  " 

Jim  gave  a  flicker  of  a  chuckle  in  his  throat,  but  kept 
his  outward  gravity.  The  stranger  eyed  the  two  male- 
volently, helplessly,  and  began  once  more,  holding  his  rage 
with  a  cold  voice. 

"  Well,  how  much  do  you  want  to  fix  my  car?  "  he 
asked,  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  bringing  out 
an  affluent  wallet. 

The  men  straightened  up  and  eyed  him  coldly.  Jim 
turned  indifferently  away  and  stepped  back  to  the  side- 
walk.   Tom  lifted  his  chin  and  replied  kindly: 

"  Why,  Mon,  it's  the  Sawheth,  didn't  ye  know  ?  I'm 
s*proised  at  ye!  It's  the  Sawbeth,  an'  this  is  Sawbeth 
Volley !  We  don't  wurruk  on  the  Sawbeth  day  in  Sawbeth 
Volley.    Whist!  Hear  thot,  mon?  " 

He  lifted  his  hand  and  from  the  stone  belfry  near-by 
came  the  solemn  tone  of  the  chime,  pealing  out  a  full  round 
of  melody,  and  then  tolling  solemnly  twelve  slow  strokes. 
There  was  something  almost  uncanny  about  it  that  held 
the  stranger  still,  as  if  an  unseen  presence  with  a  convinc- 
ing voice  had  been  invoked.  The  young  man  sat  under 
the  spell  till  the  full  complement  of  the  ringing  was 
finished,  the  workman  with  his  hand  up  holding  attention, 
and  Jim  Rafferty  quietly  enjoying  it  all  from  the 
curb  stone. 

When  the  last  sweet  resonance  had  died  out,  the 
Scotchman's  hand  went  slowly  down,  and  the  stranger 
burst  forth  with  an  oath : 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  55 

"  Well,  can  you  tell  me  where  I  can  go  to  get  fixed  up? 
I've  wasted  enough  time  already." 

"  I  should  say  from  whut  I've  seen  of  ye,  mon,  that  yer 
roight  in  thot  statement,  and  if  I  was  to  advoise  I'd  say 
go  right  up  to  the  parson,  His  loight's  still  burnin'  in  the 
windo  next  beyant  the  tchurtch,  so  ye'll  not  be  disturbin' 
him.  Not  that  he'd  moind.  He'll  fix  ye  up  ef  anybody 
cun ;  though  I'm  doubtin'  yer  in  a  bad  wy,  only  wy  ye  tak 
it.  Good-night  to  ye,  the  winda  wi'  the  leight,  mon,  roight 
next  beyant  the  tchurtch!  " 

The  car  began  its  coughing  and  spluttering,  and  slowly 
jerked  itself  into  motion,  its  driver  going  angrily  on  his 
unthankful  way.  The  two  workmen  watching  him  with 
amused  expressions,  waited  in  the  shadow  of  a  tree  till 
the  car  came  to  a  stop  again  in  front  of  the  parsonage, 
and  a  tall  young  fellow  got  out  and  looked  toward  the 
lighted  window. 

"  Oh,  boy !  He's  going  in !  "  gasped  Jim,  slapping  his 
companion  silently  on  the  back.  "  Whatt'll  Mr.  Severn 
think.  Tommy?  " 

"  It'll  do  the  fresh  laddie  gude,"  quoth  Tom,  a  trifle 
abashed  but  ready  to  stand  by  his  guns,  "  I'm  thenkin' 
he's  one  of  them  what  feels  they  owns  the  airth,  an'  is 
bound  to  step  on  all  worms  of  the  dust  whut  comes  in  thur 
wy.  But  Jim,  mon,  we  better  be  steppin'  on,  f  er  tomorra's 
the  Sawbeth  ya  ken,  an'  it  wuddent  be  gude  for  our  souls  if 
the  parson  shud  cum  out  to  investigate."  Chuckling  away 
into  the  silent  street  they  disappeared,  while  Laurence 
Shafton  stalked  angrily  up  the  little  path  and  pounded 
loudly  on  the  quaint  knocker  of  the  parsonage. 

The  minister  was  on  his  knees  beside  his  desk,  pray- 
ing for  the  soul  of  the  wandering  lad  who  had  been  dear 
to  him  for  years.  He  had  finished  his  preparation  for  the 
coming  day,  and  his  heart  was  full  of  a  great  longing.    As 


56  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

he  poured  out  his  desire  he  forgot  the  hour  and  his  need  for 
rest.  It  was  often  in  such  companionship  he  forgot  all 
else.    He  was  that  kind  of  a  man. 

But  he  came  to  his  feet  on  the  instant  with  the  knock, 
and  was  ready  to  go  out  on  any  errand  of  mercy  that  was 
needing  him.  It  was  not  an  unusual  thing  for  a  knock  to 
come  interrupting  his  midnight  devotions.  Sometimes  the 
call  would  be  to  go  far  out  on  the  mountain  to  some  one 
who  was  in  distress,  or  dying. 

The  minister  swung  the  door  wide  and  peered  into  the 
night  pleasantly  almost  as  if  to  welcome  an  unexpected 
guest.  In  the  sudden  flood  of  the  porch  light  his  face  was 
illimiined,  and  behind  him  the  pretty  living  room  gave  a 
sweet  homely  setting.  The  stranger  stood  for  an  instant 
blinking,  half  astonished;  then  the  memory  of  his  ren- 
dezvous at  break  of  day  brought  back  his  irritation  at 
the  delay. 

"Are  you  Parsons?"  he  demanded,  just  as  if 
"  Parsons "  were  at  fault  that  he  had  not  been  on 
hand  before. 

"  Parsons  ?  ''  said  Mr.  Severn  reflectively.  "  I  don't 
recall  anyone  of  that  name  hereabouts.  Perhaps  you  are 
on  the  wrong  road.    There  is  a  Parsons  at  Monopoly." 

"  Parsons  is  the  name.  Aren't  you  Parsons?  A  couple 
of  men  down  the  road  said  you  were,  and  that  you  could 
fix  me  up.  They  said  right  next  the  church  and  that  your 
light  was  still  burning."  The  visitor's  tone  was  belligerent. 

Severn's  face  cleared  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  they  must  have  said  *  Parson,'  they  often  call  me 
that.    Come  in.    What  can  I  do  for  you?  " 

The  young  man  eyed  him  coldly  and  made  no  move 
to  enter. 

"  Parson  or  Parsons,  it  makes  no  difference  does  it? 
Mr.  Parson,  if  you're  so  particular  then,  come  out  and  look 
at  my  car.    It  seems  to  be  in  bad  shape,  and  be  quick  about 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  57 

it.  IVe  got  over  two  hundred  miles  to  make  before  day- 
break, so  get  a  hustle  on.  FU  pay  you  well  if  you  don't 
waste  any  time." 

A  queer  look  descended  upon  the  minister  in  twinkles 
of  amusement  around  his  eyes  and  lips  much  like  the  smile 
that  Tom  MacMertrie  had  worn,  only  there  was  not  a  rag 
of  hurt  pride  about  it :    With  entire  pleasantness  he  said : 

"  Just  wait  a  moment  till  I  get  a  Hght." 

As  he  turned  to  go  Shaf ton  called  after  him : 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  got  anything  to  drink?  Fm  thirsty 
as  the  devil." 

Severn  turned,  instant  hospitality  in  his  face. 

"  What  will  you  have  ?  Water  or  milk  ?  Plenty 
of  both." 

He  smiled  and  Shafton  looked  at  him  in  haughty 
amazement. 

"  Man!  I  said  I  wanted  something  to  drink! "  he  thun- 
dered, but  don't  stand  there  all  night  doddering.  I've  got 
to  get  started !  " 

A  slight  lifting  of  the  chin,  a  trifle  of  steel  in  the  kind 
eyes,  a  shade  of  coolness  in  the  voice,  as  the  clear  compre- 
hension of  heaven  had  sifted  the  visitor,  and  the  minister 
said,  almost  sternly: 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  and  disappeared  through  a  swinging  door 
into  the  pantry. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  L3mn  Severn  awoke  to  near 
consciousness  and  wondered  what  kind  of  a  queer  noisy 
guest  her  father  had  now. 

The  minister  was  gone  sometime  and  the  guest  grew 
impatient,  stamping  up  and  down  the  piazza  and  kicking 
a  porch  rocker  out  of  his  path.  He  looked  at  his  watch 
and  frowned,  wondering  how  near  he  was  to  the  end  of 
his  detour,  and  then  he  started  in  pursuit  of  his  man, 
tramping  through  the  Severn  house  as  if  it  were  a  public 
^garage,  and  almost  running  into  the  minister  as  he  swung 


58  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

the  door  open.  Severn  was  approaching  with  a  lighted 
lantern  in  one  hand  and  a  plate  of  brown  bread  and  butter, 
with  a  cup  of  steaming  coffee  in  his  other  hand. 

Laurence  Shafton  stopped  abruptly,  a  curse  on  his  lips, 
but  something,  either  the  genial  face  of  the  minister,  or 
the  aroma  of  the  coffee,  silenced  him.  And  indeed  there 
was  something  about  Graham  Severn  that  was  worth 
looking  at.  Tall  and  well  built,  with  a  face  at  once  strong 
and  sweet,  and  with  a  certain  luminousness  about  it  that 
almost  seemed  like  transparency  to  let  the  spirit  shine 
through,  although  there  was  nothing  frail  about  his  well 
cut  features. 

Laurence  Shafton,  looking  into  the  frank  kind  eyes  of 
the  minister  suddenly  became  aware  that  this  man  had 
taken  a  great  deal  of  trouble  for  him.  He  hadn't  brought 
any  liquor,  probably  because  he  did  not  know  enough  of  the 
world  to  understand  what  it  was  he  wanted,  or  because  he 
was  playing  a  joke.  As  he  looked  into  those  eyes  and 
noted  with  his  half  befuddled  senses  the  twinkle  playing 
at  the  corners  he  was  not  quite  sure  but  the  joke  was  on 
himself.  But  however  it  was  the  coffee  smelled  good  and 
he  took  it  and  blundered  out  a  brief  "  Thanks." 

Eating  his  brown  bread  and  butter,  the  like  of  which 
had  never  entered  his  pampered  lips  before,  and  taking 
great  swoops  of  the  hot  strong  coffee  he  followed  this 
strange  new  kind  of  a  man  out  to  the  car  in  the  moonlight, 
paying  little  heed  to  the  careful  examination  that  ensued, 
being  so  accustomed  to  ordering  all  his  needs  supplied  and 
finding  them  forthcoming  without  delay. 

Finally  the  minister  straightened  up : 

"  I'm  afraid  you  won't  go  many  miles  to-night. 
YouVe  burned  out  your  bearings !  " 

"  Hell !  "  remarked  the  young  gentleman  pausing  be 
fore  the  last  swallow  of  coffee. 

"  Oh,  you  won't  find  it  so  bad  as  that,  I  imagine,' 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  59 

answered  the  steady  voice  of  the  minister.  "  I  can  give 
you  a  bed  and  take  care  of  you  over  to-morrow,  and  per- 
haps Sandy  McPherson  can  fix  you  up  Monday,  although 
I  doubt  it.  He'd  have  to  make  new  bearings,  or  you'd 
have  to  send  for  some  to  the  factory." 

But  Lawrence  Shafton  did  not  wait  to  hear  the  sug- 
gestions. He  stormed  up  and  down  the  sidewalk  in  front 
of  the  parsonage  and  let  forth  such  a  stream  of  choice 
language  as  had  not  been  heard  in  that  locality  in  many  a 
long  year.  The  minister's  voice,  cool,  stern,  commanding, 
broke  in  upon  his  ravings. 

"  I  think  that  will  be  about  all,  sir !  " 

Laurence  Shafton  stopped  and  stared  at  the  minister's 
lifted  hand,  not  because  he  was  overawed,  simply  because 
never  before  in  the  whole  of  his  twenty-four  years  had 
any  one  dared  lift  voice  to  him  in  a  tone  of  command  or 
reproof.  He  could  not  believe  his  ears,  and  his  anger 
rose  hotly.  He  opened  his  mouth  to  tell  this  insignificant 
person  who  he  was  and  where  to  get  off,  and  a  few  other 
common  arguments  of  gentlemen  of  his  class,  but  the 
minister  had  a  surprising  height  as  he  stood  in  the  moon- 
light, and  there  was  that  something  strange  and  spiritual 
about  him  that  seemed  to  meet  the  intention  and  disarm 
it.  His  jaw  dropped,  and  he  could  not  utter  the  words  he  had 
been  about  to  speak.  This  was  insufferable — !  But  there 
was  that  raised  hand.  It  seemed  like  some  one  not  of  this 
world  quite.  He  wasn't  afraid,  because  it  wasn't  in  him  to 
be  afraid.  That  was  his  pose,  not  afraid  of  those  he  con- 
sidered his  inferiors,  and  he  did  not  consider  that  anyone 
was  his  superior.  But  somehow  this  was  something  new 
in  his  experience.  A  man  like  this!  It  was  almost  as  i"*^ 
his  mere  being  there  demanded  a  certain  homage.  It 
was  queer.  The  young  man  passed  a  hand  over  his  hot 
forehead  and  tried  to  think.  Then  the  minister's  voice 
went  calmly  on.    It  was  almost  as  if  he  had  not  said  that 


60  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

other  at  all.  Perhaps  he  had  not.  Perhaps  he  dreamed; 
it  or  imagined  it.  Perhaps  he  had  been  taking  too  muchj 
liquor  and  this  was  one  of  the  symptoms — !  Yet  ther^ 
still  ringing  in  his  ears — well  his  soul  anyway, — ^were  those 
quiet  words,  "  That  will  be  about  all,  sir!  "  Sternly.  As 
if  he  had  a  right  to  speak  that  way  to  him!  To  Laurence: 
Shaft  on,  son  of  the  great  Wilson  J.  Shafton,  of  New" 
York !  He  looked  up  at  the  man  again  and  found  a  sort  oi 
respect  for  him  dawning  in  himself.  It  was  queer,  but  the 
man  was — well,  interesting.    What  was  this  he  was  saying  i 

"  I  am  sorry" — just  as  if  he  had  never  rebuked  him  at  ^ 
all,  "  I  am  sorry  that  there  seems  to  be  no  other  way.  If  I 
had  a  car  I  would  take  you  to  the  nearest  railway  station, 
but  there  are  no  trains  to-night,  not  even  twenty  miles 
away  until  six  in  the  morning.  There  are  only  four  cars 
owned  in  the  village.  Two  are  gone  off  on  a  summer 
trip,  the  third  is  out  of  commission  being  repaired,  and  the 
fourth  belongs  to  the  doctor,  who  happens  to  be  away  on 
the  mountain  to-night  attending  a  dying  man.  You  see 
how  it  is.'* 

The  young  man  opened  his  mouth  to  curse  once  more, 
and  strangely  enough  closed  it  again:  Somehow  cursing 
seemed  to  have  lost  its  force. 

"  There  is  just  one  chance,"  went  on  the  minister 
thoughtfully,  "that  a  young  man  who  was  visiting  his 
mother  to-day  may  still  be  here.  I  can  call  up  and  find  out. 
He  would  take  you  I  know.'* 

Almost  humbly  the  great  man's  son  followed  the  min- 
ister back  to  the  house  and  listened  anxiously  while  he 
called  a  number  on  the  telephone. 

"Is  that  you  Mrs.  Carter?    I'm  sorry  if  I  have  dis- 
turbed you.     What  ?    You  hadn't  gone  to  bed  yet  ?    Oh.  _ 
waiting  for   Mark?    Then  he  isn't  there?    That's  what  IS 
called  up  for.    There  is  some  one  here  in  trouble,  needing™ 
to  be  taken  to  Monopoly.     I  was  sure  Mark  would  help 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  61 

him  out  if  possible.  Yes,  please,  if  he  comes  soon,  ask  him 
to  call  me.  Just  leave  a  note  for  him,  can't  you? 
I  wouldn't  sit  up.  Mark  will  take  good  care  of  himself. 
Yes,  of  course,  that's  the  mother  of  it.  Well,  good-night, 
Mrs.  Carter." 

The  young  man  strode  angrily  out  to  the  door,  mutter- 
ing— ^but  no  words  were  distinct.  He  wanted  to  be  away 
from  the  compelling  calmness  of  those  eyes  that  seemed  to 
search  him  through.  He  dashed  out  the  screen  door,  let- 
ting it  slam  behind  him,  and  down  the  steps,  intending  to 
make  his  car  go  on  at  all  odds  until  he  reached  another 
town  somewhere.  It  had  gone  so  far,  it  could  go  on  a  little 
farther  perhaps.  This  country  parson  did  not  know  about 
cars,  how  should  he? 

And  then  somewhere  right  on  the  top  step  he  made  a 
false  step  and  slipped,  or  was  it  his  blindness  of  rage  ?  He 
caught  at  the  vines  with  frantic  hands,  but  as  if  they 
laughed  at  him  they  slipped  from  his  grasp.  His  feet  clat- 
tered against  the  step  trying  for  footing,  but  he  was  too 
near  the  edge,  and  he  went  down  straight  into  a  little  rocky 
nook  where  ferns  and  violets  were  growing,  and  a  sharp 
jagged  rock  stuck  up  and  bit  him  viciously  as  he  slid  and 
struggled  for  a  firm  footing  again.  Then  an  ugly  twist 
of  his  ankle,  and  he  lay  in  a  humiliating  heap  in  the  shadow 
of  the  vines  on  the  lawn,  crying  out  and  beginning  to 
curse  with  the  pain  that  gripped  him  in  sharp  teeth,  and 
stung  through  his  whole  excitable  inflammed  being. 

The  minister  was  there  almost  at  once,  bending  over 
him.  Somehow  he  felt  as  if  he  were  in  the  power  of  some- 
body greater  than  he  had  ever  met  before.  It  was  almost 
like  meeting  God  out  on  the  road  somewhere.  The  min- 
ister stooped  and  picked  him  up,  lightly,  as  if  he  had  been 
a  feather,  and  carried  him  like  a  baby,  thrown  partly  over 
his  shoulder;  up  the  steps,  and  into  that  blasted  house 
again.    Into  the  bright  light  that  sickened  him  and  made 


62  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

the  pain  leap  up  and  bring  a  mighty  faintness. 

He  laid  him  almost  tenderly  upon  a  soft  couch,  and 
straightened  the  pillows  about  him,  seeming  to  know  just 
how  every  bone  felt,  and  how  every  nerve  quivered,  and 
then  he  asked  a  few  questions  in  a  quiet  voice.  What  hap- 
pened? Was  it  your  ankle ?  Here?  Or  here f  All  right. 
Just  be  patient  a  minute,  I'll  have  you  all  fixed  up.  This 
was  my  job  over  in  France  you  know.  No,  don't  move.  It 
won't  hurt  long.  It  was  right  here  you  said.  Now,  wait 
till  I  get  my  bottle  of  lotion.'* 

He  was  back  in  an  instant  with  bandages,  and  bottle, 
and  seemed  to  know  just  how  to  get  off  a  shoe  with  the 
least  trouble. 

An  hour  later  the  scion  of  a  great  New  York  family 
lay  sleeping  in  the  minister's  study,  the  old  couch  made  up 
with  cool  sheets,  and  the  swollen  ankle  comfortably 
bandaged  with  cool  wet  cloths.  Outside  in  the  moonlight 
the  crippled  car  stood  alone,  and  Sabbath  Valley  slept, 
while  the  bells  chimed  out  a.  single  solemn  stroke.  ^ 


,_.ca 
Iftn 


f 


VI 


Billy  was  doing  some  rapid  thinking  while  he  stood 
motionless  in  the  bushes.  It  seemed  a  half  hour,  but  in 
reality  it  was  but  a  few  seconds  before  he  heard  a  low 
whistle.  The  men  piled  rapidly  into  the  car  with  furtive 
looks  on  either  side  into  the  dark. 

Billy  gave  a  wavering  glance  toward  the  looming 
house  in  the  darkness  where  the  motionless  figure  had 
been  left.  Was  it  a  dead  man  lying  there  alone,  or  was  he 
only  doped.  But  what  could  he  do  in  the  dark  without 
tools  or  flash  ?  He  decided  to  stick  with  the  machine,  for 
he  had  no  desire  to  foot  it  home,  and  anyway,  with  his 
bicycle  he  would  be  far  more  independent.  Besides,  there 
was  the  perfectly  good  automobile  to  think  about.  If 
the  man  was  dead  he  couldn't  be  any  deader.  If  he  was 
only  doped  it  would  be  some  time  before  he  came  to,  and 
before  these  keepers  could  get  back  he  would  have  time  to 
do  something.  Billy  never  doubted  his  responsibility  in 
the  matter.  It  was  only  a  question  of  expediency.  If  he 
could  just  "  get  these  guys  with  the  goods  on  them,"  he 
would  be  perfectly  satisfied. 

He  made  a  dash  for  his  seat  at  the  back  while  the  car 
was  turning,  and  they  were  off  at  a  brisk  pace  down  the 
mountain,  not  waiting  this  time  to  double  on  their  tracks, 
but  splashing  through  the  Creek  only  once  and  on  up  to 
the  road  again. 

Like  an  uneasy  fever  in  his  veins  meantime,  went  and 
came  a  vision  of  that  limp  inert  figure  of  the  man  being 
carried     into    the     haunted    house     as     it    stood    out 

the  flare  of  the  flash  light,  one  arm  hanging 
heavily.  What  did  that  hand  and  arm  remind  him  of? 
h — ^h!    The  time  when  Mark  was  knocked  cold  at  the 


64  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Thanksgiving  Day  Football  game  last  year.  Mark's 
hand  and  arm  had  looked  like  that — he  had  held  his 
fingers  like  that — ^when  they  picked  him  up.  Mark  had 
the  base-ball  hand!  Of  course  that  rich  guy  might  havei 
been  an  athlete  too,  they  were  sometimes.  And  of  course 
Mark  was  right  now  at  home  and  in  bed,  where  Billy 
wished  he  was  also,  but  somehow  the  memory  of  that  still 
dark  "  knocked  cold "  attitude,  and  that  hanging  hand 
and  arm  would  not  leave  him.  He  frowned  in  the  dark  and 
wished  this  business  was  over.  Mark  was  the  only  living 
soul  Billy  felt  he  could  ever  tell  about  this  night's  esca- 
pade, and  he  wasn't  sure  he  could  tell  him,  but  he  knew  if 
he  did  that  Mark  would  understand. 

Billy  watched  anxiously  for  a  streak  of  light  in  the 
East,  but  none  had  come  as  yet.  The  moon  had  left  the 
earth  darker  than  darkness  when  it  went. 

He  tried  to  think  what  he  should  do.  His  bicycle  wasi 
lying  in  the  bushes  and  he  ought  to  get  it  before  daylight. 
If  they  went  near  the  station  he  would  drop  off  and  pick 
it  up.  Then  he  would  scuttle  through  the  woods  and  get  to 
the  Crossroads,  and  beat  it  down  to  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern. 
That  was  the  only  place  open  all  night  where  he  could  tele- 
phone. He  didn't  like  to  go  to  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern  on 
account  of  his  aunt.  She  had  once  made  him  promise 
most  solemnly,  bringing  in  something  about  his  dead 
mother,  that  he  would  never  go  to  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern. 
But  this  was  a  case  of  necessity,  and  dead  mothers,  if  they 
cared  at  all,  ought  to  understand.  He  had  a  deep  under- 
lying faith  in  the  principle  of  what  a  mother — at  any  rate  a 
dead  mother — ^would  be  like.  And  anyhow,  this  wasn't 
the  kind  of  "  going  "  to  the  Tavern  his  aunt  had  meant. 
He  was  keeping  the  spirit  of  the  promise  if  not  the  letter.] 
In  his  code  the  spirit  meant  much  more  than  the  letter — at| 
least  on  this  occasion.  There  were  often  times  when  he 
rigidly  adhered  to  the  letter  and  let  the  spirit  take  care  oi 
itself,  but  this  was  not  one. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  M 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand  they  did  not  take  Pat  all  the 
way  back  to  the  crossing  by  the  station  it  would  be  even 
better  for  him,  for  the  road  on  which  they  now  were  passed 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern,  and 
he  could  easily  beat  the  car  to  the  state  line,  by  dropping  off 
and  running. 

But  suddenly  and  without  warning  it  became  apparent 
that  Pat  was  to  be  let  out  to  walk  to  the  station  crossing, 
and  Billy  had  only  a  second  to  decide  what  to  do,  while  Pat 
lumbered  swearing  down  from  the  car.  If  he  got  off  now; 
he  would  have  to  wait  till  Pat  was  far  ahead  before  he 
dared  go  after  his  wheel,  and  he  would  lose  so  much  time 
there  would  be  no  use  in  trying  to  save  the  car.  On 
the  other  hand  if  he  stayed  on  the  car  he  was  liable  to  be 
seen  by  Pat,  and  perhaps  caught.  However,  this  seemed 
the  only  possible  way  to  keep  the  car  from  destruction  and 
loss,  so  he  wriggled  himself  into  his  seat  more  firmly, 
tucked  his  legs  painfully  up  under  him,  covered  his  face 
with  his  cap,  and  hid  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

"  YouVe  plenty  of  time,"  raged  Pat,  "YouVe  only  a 
little  five  miles  run  left.  It's  a  good  half  hour  before  light. 
You're  a  pair  of  cowards,  that's  whut  ye  are,  and  so  I'll 
tell  Sam.  If  I  get  fired  fer  not  being  there  fer  the  early 
milk  train,  there'll  be  no  more  fat  jobs  fer  youse.  Now 
be  sure  ye  do  as  you're  told.  Leave  the  car  in  the  first  field 
beyond  the  woods  after  ye  cross  the  state  line,  lift  yer  flash 
light  and  wink  three  times,  count  three  slow,  and  wink 
three  times  more.  Then  beat  it!  And  doncha  ferget  to  go 
feed  that  guy !  We  don't  want  he  should  die  on  us." 

The  engine  began  to  mutter.  Pat  with  a  farewell 
string  of  oaths  rolled  off  down  the  road,  too  sleepy  to 
look  behind,  and  Billy  held  his  breath  and  ducked  low  till 
the  rolling  Pat  was  one  with  the  deep  gray  of  the  morning. 

The  first  streak  of  light  was  beginning  to  show  in  the 
St,  and  the  all-night  revellers  at  the  Blue  Duck  were  in  the 


r 


66  THE  CITY  OF  FERE 

last  stages  of  going  home  after  a  more  than  usually  exciting 
season,  when  Billy  like  the  hardened  promise-breaker  he 
felt  himself  to  be,  boldly  slid  in  at  the  door  and  disappeared 
inside  the  telephone  booth  behind  the  last  row  of  tables  in 
the  corner.  For  leave  it  to  a  boy,  even  though  he  be  not  a 
frequenter  of  a  place,  to  know  where  everything  needful  is 
to  be  found ! 

He  had  to  wait  several  minutes  to  get  the  Chief  of 
Police  in  Economy,  and  while  he  waited  two  gaunt 
habitues  of  the  Tavern  slid  into  seats  at  the  table  to  the 
left  of  the  booth,  ordered  drinks  and  began  to  discuss 
something  in  a  low  tone.  Billy  paid  no  heed  till  he  hap- 
pened to  hear  his  friend's  name : 

"  Yep,  I  seen  Mark  come  in  with  Cherry  early  in  the 
evening.  He  set  right  over  there  and  gotter  some  drink. 
The  girl  was  mad  because  he  wouldn't  get  her  what  she 
wanted  to  drink.  I  happened  to  be  settin'  direckly  in  front 
and  I  heard  her  gassin'  about  it.  She  tossed  her  head  and 
made  her  eyes  look  little  and  ugly  like  a  pig,  and  once  she 
got  up  to  go,  and  he  grabbed  her  hands  and  made  her  set 
down;  and  just  set  there  fer  sometime  alookin'  at  her  hard 
an'  holdin'  her  ban's  and  chewin'  the  rag  at  her.  I  don't 
know  what  all  they  was  sayin,'  fer  he  talked  mighty  low, 
an'  Ike  called  me  to  take  a  hand  in  the  game  over  tother  side 
the  room,  so  I  didn't  know  no  more  till  I  see  him  an'  Cherry 
beat  in'  it  out  the  side  door,  an'  Dolphin  standin'  over  acrost 
by  the  desk  lampin'  'em  with  his  ugly  look,  an'  pretty  quick, 
Dolph  he  slid  out  the  other  door  an'  was  gone  quite  some 
time.  When  he  come  back  Cherry  was  with  him,  laughin' 
and  makin'  eyes,  and  vampin'  away  like  she  always  does, 
an'  him  an'  her  danced  a  lot  after  that — " 

A  voice  on  the  end  of  the  wire  broke  in  upon  this  amaz- 
ing conversation,  and  Billy  with  difficulty  adjusted  his 
jaded  mind,  to  the  matter  in  hand_r 


THE  CITt.  OF  FIRE  ,  67 

" 'Z'is  the  Chief?  Say,  Chief,  a  coupla  guys  stole  a 
machine — Holes-Mowbrays — license  number  6362656-W 
• — Got  that  ?  New  York  tag.  They're  on  their  way  over  to 
the  State  Line  beyond  the  Cross  Roads.  They're  gonta 
run  her  in  the  field  just  beyond  the  woods,  you  know. 
They're  gonta  give  a  flash  light  signal  to  their  pal,  three 
winks,  count  three  slow,  and  three  winks  more,  and  then 
beat  it.  Then  some  guy  is  gonta  wreck  the  machine.  It's  up 
to  you  and  your  men  to  hold  the  machine  till  I  get  the 
owner  there.  He  don't  know  it's  pinched  yet,  but  I  know 
where  to  find  him,  an'  he'll  have  the  license  and  can 
identify  it.  Where'U  I  find  you?  Station  House? 
'Conomy?  Sure!  I'll  be  there  soon's  I  get  'im.  What's 
that?  I?  Oh,  I'm  just  a  kid  that  happened  to  get  wise. 
My  name?  Oh  rats!  That  don't  cut  any  ice  now!  You 
get  on  yer  job !  They  must  be  almost  there  by  now.  I 
gotta  beat  it !  Gub-bye !  " 

Billy  was  all  there  even  if  he  had  been  up  all  night.  He 
hung  up  with  a  click,  for  he  was  anxious  to  hear  what  the 
men  were  saying.  They  had  finished  their  glasses  and 
were  preparing  to  leave.  The  old  one  was  gabbling  on  in 
a  querrilous  gossipy  tone : 

"  Well,  it'll  go  hard  with  Mark  Carter  if  the  man  dies. 
Everybody  knows  he  was  here,  and  unless  he  can  prove 
an  alibi—!" 

They  were  crawling  reluctantly  out  of  their  haunts 
now,  and  Billy  could  catch  but  one  more  sentence : 

"  Well,  I'm  sorry  fer  his  ma.  I  used  to  go  to  school 
with  Mrs.  Carter  when  we  were  kids." 

They  were  gone  out  and  the  room  suddenly  showed 
empty.  The  waiter  was  fastening  the  shutters.  In  a 
moment  more  he  would  be  locked  in.  Billy  made  a  silent 
dash  among  the  tables  and  slid  out  the  door  while  the 
waiter's  back  was  turned.  The  two  men  were  ambling 
slowly  down  the  road  toward  Economy.    Billy  started  on 


68  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

a  dead  run.  His  rubber  soled  shoes  made  no  echo  and  he 
was  too  light  on  his  feet  to  make  a  thud.  He  disappeared 
into  the  grayness  like  a  spirit.  He  had  more  cause  than 
ever  now  for  hurry.  Mark!  Mark!  His  beloved  Mark 
Carter!  What  must  he  do  about  it?  Must  he  tell  Mark? 
Or  did  Mark  perhaps  know?  What  had  happened  any- 
way? There  had  evidently  been  a  shooting.  That  Cherry 
Fenner  was  mixed  up  in  it.  Billy  knew  her  only  by  sight. 
She  always  grinned  at  him  and  said:  *'Hello,  Billee!''  in 
her  pretty  dimpled  way.  He  didn't  care  for  her  himself. 
He  had  accepted  her  as  a  part  of  life,  a  necessary  evil.  She 
wore  her  hair  queer,  and  had  very  short  tight  skirts,  and 
high  heels.  She  painted  her  face  and  vamped,  but  that 
was  her  affair.  He  had  heretofore  tolerated  her  because 
she  seemed  in  some  way  to  be  under  Mark  Carter's  recent 
protection.  Therefore  he  had  growled  "Ello!"  grimly 
whenever  she  accosted  him  and  let  it  go  at  that.  If  it  had 
come  to  a  show  down  he  would  have  stood  up  for  her 
because  he  knew  that  Mark  would,  that  was  all.  Mark 
knew  his  own  business.  Far  be  it  from  Billy  to  criticize 
his  hero's  reasons.  Perhaps  it  was  one  of  Mark's  weak- 
nesses. It  was  up  to  him.  That  was  the  code  of  a  "  white 
man  "  as  Billy  had  learned  it  from  "  the  fellas." 

But  this  was  a  different  matter.  This  involved  Mark's 
honor.    It  was  up  to  him  to  find  Mark ! 

Billy  did  not  take  the  High  road  down  from  his  detour. 
He  cut  across  below  the  Crossroads,  over  rough  ground, 
among  the  underbrush,  and  parting  the  low  growing  trees 
was  lost  in  the  gloom  of  the  woods.  But  he  knew  every 
inch  of  ground  within  twenty  miles  around,  and  darkness 
did  not  take  away  his  sense  of  direction.  He  crashed 
along  among  the  branches,  making  steady  headway 
toward  the  spot  where  he  had  left  his  bicycle,  puffing  and 
panting,  his  face  streaked  with  dirt,  his  eyes  bleared  and 
haggard,  his  whole  lithe  young  body  straining  forward 


w^^ 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  69 

and  fighting  against  the  dire  weariness  that  was  upon  him, 
for  it  was  not  often  that  he  stayed  up  all  night.  Aunt  Saxon 
aw  to  that  much  at  least. 

The  sky  was  growing  rosy  now,  and  he  could  hear  the 
mbling  of  the  milk  train.  It  was  late.  Pat  would  not 
ose  his  job  this  time,  for  he  must  have  had  plenty  of  time 
o  get  back  to  the  station.  Billy  wormed  himself  under 
cover  as  the  train  approached,  and  bided  his  time. 
Cautiously,  peering  from  behind  the  huckleberry  growth, 
he  watched  Pat  slamming  the  milk  cans  around.  He  could 
see  his  bicycle  lying  like  a  dark  skeleton  of  a  thing  against 
the  gravel  bank.  It  was  lucky  he  got  there  before  day, 
for  Pat  would  have  been  sure  to  see  it,  and  it  might  have 
given  him  an  idea  that  Billy  had  gone  with  the  automobile. 

The  milk  train  came  suddenly  in  sight  through 
the  tunnel,  like  a  lighted  thread  going  through  a  needle. 
It  rumbled  up  to  the  station.  There  was  a  rattling  of  milk 
cans,  empty  ones  being  put  on,  full  cans  being  put  off, 
grumbling  of  Pat  at  the  train  hands,  loud  retorts  of  the 
train  hands,  the  engine  puffed  and  wheezed  like  a  fat  old 
lady  going  upstairs  and  stopping  on  every  landing  to  rest. 
Then  slamming  of  car  doors,  a  whistle,  the  snort  of  the 
engine  as  it  took  up  its  way  again  out  toward  the  rosy  sky, 
its  headlight  weird  like  a  sick  candle  against  the  dawn, 
its  tail  light  winking  with  a  leer  and  mocking  at  the 
mountains  as  it  clattered  away  like  a  row  of  gray  ducks 
lifting  webbed  feet  and  flinging  back  space  to  the  station. 

Pat  rolled  the  loaded  truck  to  the  other  platform  ready 
for  the  Lake  train  at  seven,  and  went  in  to  a  much  needed 
rest.  He  slammed  the  door  with  a  finality  that  gave 
Billy  relief.  The  boy  waited  a  moment  more  in  the 
thering  dawn,  and  then  made  a  dash  for  the  open,  sal- 
vaging his  bicycle,  and  diving  back  into  the  undergrowth. 

For  a  quarter  of  a  mile  he  and  the  wheel  like  two 
comrades  raced  under  branches,  and  threaded  their  way 


I 


70  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

between  trees.  Then  he  came  out  into  the  Highroad  and 
mounting  his  wheel  rode  into  the  world  just  as  the  sun 
shot  up  and  touched  the  day  with  wonder. 

He  rode  into  the  silent  sleeping  village  of  Sabbath 
Valley  just  as  the  bells  from  the  church  chimed  out 
gently,  as  bells  should  do  on  a  Sabbath  morning  when 
people  are  at  rest,  "One!  Two!  Three!  Four!  Five!" 

Sabbath  Valley  looked  great  as  he  pedalled  silently 
down  the  street.  Even  the  old  squeak  of  the  back  wheel 
seemed  to  be  holding  its  breath  for  the  occasion. 

He  coasted  past  the  church  and  down  the  gentle  in- 
cline in  front  of  the  parsonage  and  Joneses,  and  the 
Littles  and  Browns  and  Gibsons.  Like  a  shadow  of  the 
night  passing  he  slid  past  the  Fowlers  and  Tiptons  and 
Duncannons,  and  fastened  his  eyes  on  the  little  white 
fence  with  the  white  pillared  gate  where  Mrs.  Carter  lived. 
Was  that  a  light  in  the  kitchen  window?  And  the  barn 
that  Mark  used  for  his  garage  when  he  was  at  home,  was 
the  door  open?  He  couldn't  quite  see  for  the  cyringa 
bush  hid  it  from  the  road.  With  a  furtive  glance  up  and 
down  the  street  he  wheeled  in  at  the  driveway,  and  rode 
up  under  the  shadow  of  the  green  shuttered  white  house. 

He  dismounted  silently,  stealthily,  rested  his  wheel 
against  the  trunk  of  a  cherry  tree,  and  with  keen  eyes  for 
every  window,  glanced  up  to  the  open  one  above  which 
he  knew  belonged  to  Mark's  room.  Strong  grimy  fingers 
went  to  his  lips  and  a  low  cautious  whistle,  more  like  a  bird 
call  issued  forth,  musical  as  any  wild  note. 

The  white  muslin  curtains  wavered  back  and  forth  in 
the  summer  breeze,  and  for  a  moment  he  thought  a  head 
was  about  to  appear  for  a  soft  stirring  noise  had  seemed 
to  move  within  the  house  somewhere,  but  the  curtains 
swayed  on  and  no  Mark  appeared.  Then  he  suddenly  was 
aware  of  a  white  face  confronting  him  at  the  downstairs 
window  directly  opposite  to  him,  white  and  scared  and — 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  71 

was  it  accusing?  And  suddenly  he  began  to  tremble.  Not 
all  the  events  of  the  night  had  made  him  tremble,  but  now 
he  trembled,  it  was  Mark's  mother,  and  she  had  pink  rims 
to  her  eyes,  and  little  damp  crimples  around  her  mouth 
and  eyes  for  all  the  world  like  Aunt  Saxon's.  She  looked 
— she  looked  exactly  as  though  she  had  not  slept  all  night. 
Her  nose  was  thin  and  red,  and  her  eyes  had  that  awful 
blue  that  eyes  get  that  have  been  much  washed  with 
tears.  The  soft  waves  of  her  hair  drooped  thinly,  and 
the  coil  behind  showed  more  threads  of  silver  than  of 
brown  in  the  morning  sun  that  shot  through  the 
branches  of  the  cherry  tree.  She  had  a  frightened  look, 
as  if  Billy  had  brought  some  awful  news,  or  as  if  it  was 
his  fault,  he  could  not  tell  which,  and  he  began  to  feel 
that  choking  sensation  and  that  goneness  in  the  pit  of  his 
stomach  that  Aunt  Saxon  always  gave  him  when  she 
looked  frightened  at  something  he  had  done  or  was  going 
to  do.  Added  to  this  was  that  sudden  premonition,  and  a 
memory  of  that  drooping  still  figure  in  the  dark  up  on 
the  mountain. 

Mrs.  Carter  sat  down  the  candle  on  a  shelf  and  raised 
the  window : 

**Is  that  you  Billy?"  she  asked,  and  there  were  tears 
in  her  voice. 

Billy  had  a  brief  appalling  revelation  of  Mothers  the 
world  over.  Did  all  Mothers — women — act  like  that 
when  they  were  fools?  Fools  is  what  he  called  them  in 
his  mind.  Yet  in  spite  of  himself  and  his  rage  and 
trembling  he  felt  a  sudden  tenderness  for  this  crumply, 
tired,  ghastly  little  pink  rimmed  mother,  apprehensive  of 
the  worst  as  was  plain  to  see.  Billy  recalled  like  a  flash 
the  old  man  at  the  Blue  Duck  saying,  "  I'm  sorry  for  his 
ma.  I  used  to  go  to  school  with  her."  He  looked  at  the 
faded  face  with  the  pink  rims  and  trembling  lips  and  had 
a  vision  of  a  brown  haired  little  girl  at  a  desk,  and  old  Si 


n  THE  CITY  OF  FffiE 

Appleby  a  teasing  boy  in  the  desk  opposite.  It  came  over 
him  that  some  day  he  would  be  an  old  man  somewhere 
telling  how  he  went  to  school — !    And  then  he  asked : 

"Where's  Mark?  Up  yet?'* 

She  shook  her  head  apprehensively,  withholdingly. 

Billy  had  a  thought  that  perhaps  some  one  had  beat 
him  to  it  with  news  from  the  Blue  Duck,  but  he  put  it  from 
him.  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  and  one  was  straggling 
down  between  the  crimples  of  her  cheeks  where  it  looked  as 
if  she  had  lain  on  the  folds  of  her  handkerchief  all  night. 
There  came  a  new  tenderness  in  his  voice.  This  was 
Mark's  mother,  and  this  was  the  way  she  felt.  Well,  of 
course  it  was  silly,  but  she  was  Mark's  mother. 

"Man  up  the  mountain  had  n'accident.  I  thought 
Mark  ud  he'p.  He  always  does,"  explained  Billy  awk- 
wardly with  a  feeling  that  he  ought  to  accoimt  for  his 
early  visit. 

"  Yes,  of  course,  Mark  would  like  to  help !  "  purred  his 
mother  comforted  at  the  very  thought  of  every  day  life  and 
Mark  going  about  as  usual,  "But — "and  the  apprehension 
flew  into ,  her  eyes  again,  "  He  isn't  home.  Billy,  he 
hasn't  come  home  at  all  last  night!  I'm  frightened  to 
death!  I've  sat  up  all  night!  I  can't  think  what's  hap- 
pened— !  There's  so  many  hold-ups  and  Mark  will  carry 
his  money  loose  in  his  trousers  pocket — !" 

Billy  blanched  but  lied  beautifully  up  to  the  occasion 
even  as  he  would  have  liked  to  have  somebody  he  for  him 
to  Aunt  Saxon: 

"Aw !  That's  nothing !  Doncha  worry.  He  tol'  me  he 
might  have  t'stay  down  t'Unity  all  night.  There's  a  fella 
down  there  that  likes  him  a  lot,  an'  they  had  somekinduva 
blowout  in  their  church  last  night.  He  mightuv  had  ta 
take  some  girl  home  out  of  town  ya  know,  and  stayed 
over  with  the  fella." 

Mrs.  Carter's  face  relaxed  a  shade: 

"Yes,  I've  tried  to  think  that—!" 


i 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  73 

"Well,  doncha  worry,  Mizz  Carter,  Til  lookim  up  fer 
,  I  know  'bout  where  he  might  be." 

"Oh,  thank  you  Billy,"  her  face  wreathed  in  waver- 
g  smiles  brought  another  thought  of  school  days  and 
ife  and  how  queer  it  was  that  grown  folks  had  been 
hildren  sometime  and  children  had  to  be  grown  folks. 

"Billy,  Mark  likes  you  very  much.  I'm  sure  he  won't 
mind  your  knowing  that  I'm  worried,  but  you  know  how 
boys  don't  like  to  have  their  mothers  worry,  so  you 
needn't  say  anything  to  Mark  that  I  said  I  was  worried, 
need  you?  You  understand  Billy.  I'm  not  really  wor- 
ried you  know.    Mark  was  always  a  good  boy." 

"Aw  sure!"  said  Billy  with  a  knowing  wink.  "He's 
a  prince!  You  leave  it  t'me,  Mizz  Carter!" 

"Thank  you,  Billy.  I'll  do  something  for  you  some- 
time. But  how's  it  come  you're  up  so  early  ?  You  haven't 
had  your  breakfast  yet  have  you?" 

She  eyed  his  weary  young  face  with  a  mother- 
ly anxiety: 

"Naw,  I  didn't  have  no  time  to  stop  fer  breakfast. 
Billy  spoke  importantly,  "Got  this  call  about  the  sick  guy 
and  had  to  beat  it.  Say,  you  don't  happen  to  know 
Mark's  license  number  do  you  ?  It  might  help  a  lot,  savin* 
time  'f'l  could  tell  his  car  at  sight.   Save  stoppin'  to  ast." 

"Well,  now,  I  don't  really — "said  the  woman  rumi- 
natively,  "let  me  see.  There  was  six  and  six,  there  were 
a  lot  of  sixes  if  I  remember — " 

"Oh,  well,  it  don't  matter — '*  Billy  grasped  his  wheel 
and  prepared  to  leave. 

"Wait,  Billy,  you  must  have  something  to  eat — " 

"Aw,  naw,  I  can't  wait!  Gotta  beat  it!  Might 
miss  'im!" 

"Well,  just  a  bite.  Here,  Til  get  you  some  cookies !" 

She  vanished,  and  he  realized  for  the  first  time  that 
he  was  hungry.     Cookies  sounded  good.        . 

She  returned  with  a  brimming  glass  of  milk  and  a 


74  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

plate  of  cookies.  She  stuffed  the  cookies  in  his  pockets, 
while  he  drank  the  milk. 

"Say, — "  said  he  after  a  long  sweet  draught  of  the 
foaming  milk,  "Ya,  aint  got  enny  more  you  cud  spare 
fer  that  sick  guy,  have  ya?  Wait,  I'll  save  this.  Got 
a  bottle  ?'* 

'Indeed  you  won't,  Billy  Gaston.  You  just  drink  that 
every  drop.  I'll  get  you  another  bottle  to  take  with  you. 
I  got  extra  last  night  'count  of  Mark  being  home,  and 
then  he  didn't  drink  it.  He  always  likes  a  drink  of  milk 
last  thing  before  he  goes  to  bed." 

She  vanished  and  returned  with  a  quart  of  milk  cold 
off  the  ice.  She  wrapped  it  well  with  newspapers,  and 
Billy  packed  it  safely  into  the  little  basket  on  his  wheel. 
Then  he  bethought  him  of  another  need. 

"  Say,  m'y  I  go  inta  the  g'rage  an'  get  a  screw  driver? 
Screw  loose  on  m'wheel." 

She  nodded  and  he  vanished  into  the  open  barn  door. 
Well  he  knew  where  Mark  kept  his  tools.  He  picked 
out  a  small  pointed  saw,  a  neat  little  auger  and  a  file 
and  stowed  them  hurriedly  under  the  milk  bottle.  Thus 
reinforced  without  and  within,  he  mounted  his  faithful 
steed  and  sped  away  to  the  hills. 

The  morning  sun  had. shot  up  several  degrees  during 
his  delay,  and  Sabbath  Valley  lay  like  a  thing  new  born 
in  its  glory.  On  the  belfry  a  purple  dove  sat  glistening, 
green  and  gold  ripples  on  her  neck,  turning  her  head 
proudly  from  side  to  side  as  Billy  rode  by,  and  when  he 
topped  the  first  hill  across  the  valley  the  bells  rang  out  six 
sweet  strokes  as  if  to  remind  him  that  Sunday  School  was 
not  far  off  and  he  must  hurry  back.  But  Billy  was  try- 
ing to  think  how  he  should  get  into  that  locked  house,  and 
wondering  whether  the  kidnappers  would  have  returned  to 
feed  their  captive  yet.  He  realized  that  he  must  be  wary, 
although  his  instinct  told  him  that  they  would  wait  for 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  75 

dark,  besides,  he  had  hopes  that  they  might  have 
been  "pinched.  " 

Nevertheless  he  approached  the  old  house  cautiously, 
skirting  the  mountain  to  avoid  Pleasant  Valley,  and  walk- 
ing a  mile  or  two  through  thick  undergrowth,  sometimes 
with  difficulty  propelling  the  faithful  machine. 

Arrived  in  sight  he  studied  the  surroundings  care- 
fully, harbored  his  wheel  where  it  would  not  be 
discovered  and  was  yet  easily  available,  and  after  recon- 
noitreing  stole  out  of  covert. 

The  house  stood  gaunt  and  grim  against  the  smiling 
morning.  Its  shuttered  windows  giving  an  expression  of 
blindness  or  the  repellant  mask  of  death.  A  dead  house, 
that  was  what  it  was.  Its  doors  and  windows  closed  on  the 
tragedy  that  had  been  enacted  within  its  massive  stone 
walls.  It  seemed  more  like  a  fortress  than  a  house  where 
warm  human  faces  had  once  looked  forth,  and  where 
laughter  and  pleasant  words  had  once  sounded  out.  To 
pass  it  had  always  stirred  a  sense  of  mystery  and  weird- 
ness.  To  approach  it  thus  with  the  intention  of  entering 
to  find  that  still  limp  figure  of  a  man  gave  a  most 
overpowering  sense  of  awe.  Billy  looked  up  with  wide 
eyes,  the  deep  shadows  under  them  standing  out  in  the 
clear  light  of  the  morning  and  giving  him  a  strangely  old 
aspect  as  if  he  had  jumped  over  at  least  ten  years  during 
the  night.  Warily  he  circled  the  house,  keeping  close 
to  the  shrubbery  at  first  and  listening  as  a  squirrel  might 
have  done,  then  gradually  drawing  nearer.  He  noticed 
that  the  down  stairs  shutters  were  solid  iron  with  a  Httle 
half  moon  peep  hole  at  the  top.  Those  upstairs  were 
solid  below  and  fitted  with  slats  above,  but  the  slats  were 
closed  of  all  the  front  windows,  and  all  but  two  of  the  back 
ones,  which  were  turned  upward  so  that  one  could  not 
see  the  glass.  The  doors,  both  back  and  front,  were 
locked,  and  unshakable,  of  solid  oak  and  very  thick.     A 


76  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Yale  lock  with  a  new  look  gave  all  entrance  at  the 
front  an  impossible  look.  The  back  door  was  equally  im- 
pregnable unless  he  set  to  work  with  his  auger  and  saw 
and  took  out  a  heavy  oak  panel. 

He  got  down  to  the  ground  and  began  to  examine  the 
cellar  windows.  They  seemed  to  be  fitted  with  iron  bars 
set  into  the  solid  masonry.  He  went  all  around  the  house 
and  found  each  one  unshakable,  until  he  reached  the  last 
at  the  back.  There  he  found  a  bit  of  stone  cracked  and 
loosened  and  it  gave  him  an  idea.  He  set  to  work  with 
his  few  tools,  and  finally  succeeded  in  loosening  one 
rusted  bar.  He  was  much  hindered  in  his  work  by  the 
necessity  of  keeping  a  constant  watch  out,  and  by  his  at- 
tempts to  be  quiet.  There  was  no  telling  when  Link  and 
Shorty  might  come  to  feed  their  captive  and  he  must  not 
be  discovered. 

It  was  slow  work  picking  away  at  the  stone,  fiKng 
away  at  the  rusty  iron,  but  the  bars  were  so  close  together 
that  three  must  be  removed  before  he  could  hope  to  crawl 
through,  and  even  then  he  might  be  able  to  get  no  further 
than  the  cellar.  The  guy  that  fixed  this  house  up  for  a 
prison  knew  what  he  was  about. 

Faintly  across  the  mountains  came  the  echo  of  bells, 
or  were  they  in  the  boy's  own  soul?  He  worked  away  in 
the  hot  sun,  the  perspiration  rolling  down  his  weary  dirty 
face,  and  sometimes  his  soul  fainted  within  him.  Bells, 
and  the  sweet  quiet  church  with  the  pleasant  daily  faces 
about  and  the  hum  of  Sunday  School  beginning!  How 
far  away  that  all  seemed  to  him  now  as  he  filed  and 
picked,  and  sweated,  and  kept  up  a  strange  something  in 
his  soul  half  yearning,  half  fierce  dread,  that  might  have 
been  like  praying  only  the  burden  of  its  yearning  seemed 
to  be  expressed  in  but  a  single  word,  "Mark !  Mark !'' 

At  last  the  third  bar  came  loose  and  with  a  great  sigh 
that  was  almost  like  a  sob,  the  boy  tore  it  out,  and  cleared 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  77 


the  way.  Then  carefully  gathering  his  effects,  tools, 
milk  bottle  and  cap  together,  he  let  them  down  into  the 
dungeon-like  blackness  of  the  cellar,  and  crept  in  after 
them,  taking  the  precaution  to  set  up  in  place  the  iron 
bars  once  more  and  leave  no  trace  of  his  entrance. 

Pausing  cautiously  to  listen  he  ventured  to  strike  a 
match,  mentally  belaboring  himself  at  the  wasteful  way 
in  which  he  had  always  used  his  flash  light  which  was 
now  so  much  needed  and  out  of  commission.  The  cellar 
was  large,  running  under  the  whole  house,  with  heavy 
rafters  and  looming  coal  pits.  A  scurrying  rat  started 
a  few  lumps  of  coal  in  the  slide,  and  a  cobwebby  rope 
hung  ominously  from  one  cross  beam,  giving  him  a  pass- 
ing shudder.  It  seemed  as  if  the  spirit  of  the  past  had 
arisen  to  challenge  his  entrance  thus.  He  took  a  few  steps 
forward  toward  a  dim  staircase  he  sighted  at  the  farther 
end,  and  then  a  sudden  noise  sent  his  heart  beating  fast. 
He  extinguished  the  match  and  stood  in  the  darkness  lis- 
tening with  straining  ears.  That  was  surely  a  step  he 
heard  on  the  floor  above! 


I 


yii 

Laurence  Shafton  awoke  late  to  the  sound  of  church 
bells  come  alive  and  singing  hymn  tunes.  There  was 
something  strangely  unreal  in  the  sound,  in  the  utter  still- 
ness of  the  background  of  Sabbath  Valley  atmosphere 
that  made  him  think,  almost,  just  for  an  instant,  that  he 
had  stumbled  somehow  into  the  wrong  end  of  the  other 
world,  and  come  into  the  fields  of  the  blessed.  Not  that 
he  had  any  very  definite  idea  about  what  the  fields  of  the 
blessed  would  look  like  or  what  would  be  going  on  there, 
but  there  was  something  still  and  holy  between  the  voices 
of  the  bells  that  fairly  compelled  his  jaded  young  soul  to 
sit  up  and  listen. 

"But  at  the  first  attempt  to  sit  up  a  very  sharp  very 
decided  twinge  of  pain  caught  him,  and  brought  an  as- 
sorted Hst  of  words  which  he  kept  for  such  occassions  to 
his  lips.  Then  he  looked  around  and  tried  to  take  in  the 
situation.  It  was  almost  as  if  he  had  been  caught  out  of 
his  own  world  and  dropped  into  another  universe,  so  dif- 
ferent was  everything  here,  and  so  little  did  he  remember 
the  happenings  of  the  night  before.  He  had  had  trouble 
with  his  car,  something  infernal  that  had  prevented  his 
going  farther — ^he  recalled  having  to  get  out  and  push 
the  thing  along  the  road,  and  then  two  loutish  men  who 
made  game  of  him  and  sent  him  here  to  get  his  car  fixed. 
There  had  been  a  man,  a  queer  man  who  gave  him  bread 
and  butter  instead  of  wine — he  remembered  that — and  he 
had  failed  to  get  his  car  fixed,  but  how  the  deuce  did  he 
get  landed  on  this  couch  with  a  world  of  books  about  him 
and  a  thin  muslin  curtain  blowing  into  the  room,  and  fan- 
ning the  cheeks  of  a  lovely  rose  in  a  long  stemmed  clear 
glass  vase?     Did  he  try  to  start  and  have  a  smash  up? 

78 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  79 

No,  he  remembered  going  down  the  steps  with  the  inten- 
tion of  starting,  but  stay !  Now  it  was  coming  to  him.  He 
fell  off  the  porch !  He  must  have  had  a  jag  on  or  he  never 
would  have  fallen.  He  did  things  to  his  ankle  in  falling. 
He  remembered  the  gentle  giant  picking  him  up  as  if  he 
had  been  a  baby  and  putting  him  here,  but  where  was  here? 
Ah!  Now  he  remembered!  He  was  on  his  way  to  Opal 
Verrons.  A  bet.  An  elopement  for  the  prize !  Great  stakes. 
He  had  lost  of  course.  What  a  fool!  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
his  ankle  he  might  have  got  to  a  trolley  car  or  train  some- 
how and  made  a  garage.  Money  would  have  taken  him 
there  in  time.  He  was  vexed  that  he  had  lost.  It  would  have 
been  great  fun,  and  he  had  the  name  of  always  winning 
when  he  set  out  to  do  so.  But  then,  perhaps  it  was  just 
as  well — Verrons  was  a  good  fellow  as  men  went — he 
liked  him,  and  he  was  plain  out  and  out  fond  of  Opal  just 
at  present.  It  would  have  been  a  dirty  shame  to  play  the 
trick  behind  his  back.  Still,  if  Opal  wanted  to  run 
away  with  him  it  was  up  to  him  to  run  of  course. 
Opal  was  rare  sport  and  he  couldn't  stand  the  idea  of 
Smart-Aleck  McMarter,  or  that  conceited  Percy  Emerson 
getting  there  first.  He  wondered  which  had  won.  It 
made  his  fury  rise  to  think  of  either,  and  he  had  promised 
the  lady  neither  of  them  should.  What  was  she  think- 
ing of  him  by  now  that  he  had  sent  her  no  word  of 
his  delay?  That  was  inexcusable.  He  must  attend  to 
it  at  once. 

He  glanced  around  the  pleasant  room.  Yes,  there  on 
the  desk  was  a  telephone !  Could  he  gtt  to  it  ?  He  sat  up 
and  painfully  edged  his  way  over  to  the  desk. 

"  Safely  through  another  week, 

God  has  brought  us  on  our  way — " 

chimed  the  bells, 

"  Let  us  now  a  blessing  seek, 

Waiting  in  His  courts  to-day — " 


80  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

But  Laurie  Shaft  on  had  never  sung  those  words  in  his 
life  and  had  no  idea  what  the  bells  were  seeking  to  get 
across  to  him.  He  took  down  the  receiver  and  called  for 
Long  Distance. 

"Oh  day  of  rest  and  gladness!" 

pealed  out  the  bells  joyously, 

"Oh  day  of  joy  and  light! 
Oh  balm  for  care  and  sadness, 
Most  beautiful,  most  bright — " 

But  it  meant  nothing  to  Laurie  Shafton  seeking  a 
hotel  in  a  fashionable  resort.  And  when  he  finally  got 
his  number  it  was  only  OpaFs  maid  who  answered. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Verrons  was  up.  She  was  out  walking  on 
the  beach  with  a  gentleman.  No,  it  was  not  Mr.  Emerson, 
nor  yet  Mr.  McMarter.  Neither  of  those  gentlemen  had 
arrived.  No,  it  was  not  Mr.  Verrons.  He  had  just  tele- 
graphed that  he  would  not  be  at  the  hotel  until  tomorrow 
night.  Yes,  she  would  tell  Mrs.  Verrons  that  he  had  met 
with  an  accident.  Mrs.  Verrons  would  be  very  sorry. 
Number  one-W  Sabbath  Valley.  Yes,  she  would  write 
it  down.  What  ?  Oh !  The  gentleman  Mrs.  Verrons  was 
walking  with?  No,  it  was  not  anybody  that  had  been 
stopping  at  the  hotel  for  long,  it  was  a  new  gentleman 
who  had  just  come  the  night  before.  She  hadn't  heard 
his  name  yet.  Yes,  she  would  be  sure  to  tell  Mrs.  Ver- 
rons at  once  when  she  came  in,  and  Mrs.  Verrons  would 
be  likely  to  call  him  up !" 

He  hung  up  the  receiver  and  looked  around  the  room 
discontentedly.  A  stinging  twinge  of  his  ankle  added  to 
his  discomfort.  He  gave  an  angry  snarl  and  pushed  the 
wavering  curtain  aside,  wishing  those  everlasting  bells 
would  stop  their  banging. 

Across  the  velvet  stretch  of  lawn  the  stone  churcK 
nestled  among  the  trees,  with  a  background  of  moun- 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  81 

tains,  and  a  studding  of  white  gravestones  beyond 
its  wide  front  steps.  It  was  astonishingly  beautiful,  and 
startlingly  close  for  a  church.  He  had  not  been  so  near 
to  a  church  except  for  a  wedding  in  all  his  young  life. 
Dandy  place  for  a  wedding  that  would  be,  canopy  over 
the  broad  walk  from  the  street,  charming  architect- 
ure, he  liked  the  line  of  the  arched  belfry  and  the  slender 
spire  above.  The  rough  stone  fitted  well  into  the  scenery. 
The  church  seemed  to  be  a  thing  of  the  ages  placed  there 
by  Nature.  His  mind  trained  to  detect  a  sense  of  beauty 
in  garments,  rugs,  pictures,  and  women,  appreciated  the 
picture  on  which  he  was  gazing.  Where  was  this  any- 
way ?  Surely  not  the  place  with  the  absurd  name  that  he 
remembered  now  on  the  mountain  Detour.  Sabbath 
Valley!  How  ridiculous!  It  must  be  the  home  of  some 
wealthy  estate,  and  yet  there  seemed  a  rustic  loveliness 
about  it  that  scarcely  established  that  theory. 

The  bells  had  ceased.  He  heard  the  roll  of  a  deep 
throated  organ  skillfully  played. 

And  now,  his  attention  was  suddenly  attracted  to  the 
open  window  of  the  church  where  framed  in  English  ivy 
a  lovely  girl  sat  at  the  organ.  She  was  dressed  in  white 
with  hair  of  gold,  and  a  golden  window  somewhere  back 
of  her  across  the  church,  made  a  background  of  beaten 
gold  against  which  her  delicate  profile  was  set  like  some 
young  saint.  Her  white  fingers  moving  among  the  keys, 
and  gradually  he  came  to  realize  that  it  was  she  who  had 
been  playing  the  bells. 

He  stared  and  stared,  filled  with  admiration,  thrilled 
with  this  new  experience  in  his  blase  existence.  Who 
would  have  expected  to  find  a  beauty  like  that  in  a  little 
out  of  the  way  place  like  this?  His  theory  of  a  great 
estate  and  a  rich  man's  daughter  with  a  fad  for  music  in- 
stantly came  to  the  front.  What  a  lucky  happening  that 
he  shoufd  have  broken  down  close  to  this  church.     He 


82  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 


would  find  out  who  the  girl  was  and  work  it  to  get  invited 
up  to  her  house.  Perhaps  he  was  a  fortunate  loser  of  his 
bet  after  all. 

As  he  watched  the  girl  playing  gradually  the  music 
entered  his  consciousness.  He  was  fond  of  music,  and 
had  heard  the  best  of  the  world  of  course.  This  was 
meltingly  lovely.  The  girl  had  fine  appreciation  and  much 
expression,  even  when  the  medium  of  her  melody  was 
clumsy  things  like  bells.  She  had  seemed  to  make  them 
glad  as  they  pealed  out  their  melodies.  He  had  not  known 
bells  could  sound  like  happy  children,  or  like  birds. 

His  meditations  were  interrupted  by  a  tap  on  the  door, 
followed  by  the  entrance  of  his  host  bearing  a  tray: 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "  I  see  you're 
up.  How  is  the  sprain?  Better?  Would  you  like  me  to 
dress  it  again  ?  '' 

He  came  over  to  the  desk  and  set  down  the  tray  on 
which  was  beautifully  brown  buttered  toast,  eggs 
and  coffee : 

"  Fve  brought  you  just  a  bite.  It's  so  late  you  won't 
want  much,  for  we  have  dinner  immediately  after  church. 
I  suppose  you  wouldn't  feel  like  going  over  to  the  service  ?" 

"  Service  ?  "  the  young  man  drawled  almost  insolently. 

"  Yes,  service  is  at  eleven.  Would  you  care  to  go 
over?    I  could  assist  you." 

"  Naw,  I  shouldn't  care  to  go,"  he  answered  rudely, 
"Fm  pulling  out  of  here  as  soon  as  I  can  get  that  machine 
of  mine  running.  By  the  way,  I've  been  doing  some  tele- 
phoning"— he  slung  a  ten  dollar  note  on  the  desk.  "  I 
didn't  ask  how  much  it  was,  guess  that'll  cover  it.  Now, 
help  me  to  the  big  chair  and  I'll  sample  your  breakfast.'^ 

The  minister  picked  up  the  young  man  easily  and 
placed  him  in  the  big  chair  before  the  guest  realized  what 
was  doing,  and  then  turned  and  took  the  ten  dollar  bill 
between  his  thumb  and  finger  and  flipped  it  down  in  the 
young  man's  lap. 


IW<< 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  8S 

"  Keep  it/'  he  said  briefly,  "  It's  of  no  consequence." 
"  But  it  was  long  distance,"  explained  the  guest  loftily, 
"  It'll  be  quite  a  sum.     I  talked  overtime." 

**  No  matter,"  said  the  minister  pulling  out  a  drawer 

f  the  desk  and  gathering  a  few  papers  and  his  Bible. 

Now,  would  you  like  me  to  look  at  that  ankle  before  I 

go,  or  will  you  wait  for  the  doctor  ?    He's  likely  to  be  back 

before  long,  and  I've  left  a  call  for  him." 

"  I'll  wait  for  the  doctor,"  the  young  man's  tone  ap- 
proached the  insolent  note  again,  "  and  by  the  way,  I  wish 
you'd  send  for  a  mechanician.  I've  got  to  get  that 
car  running." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  Severn,  "  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to 
wait.  The  only  one  in  this  region  that  would  be  at  all 
likely  to  help  you  out  with  those  bearings  is  Carter.  He 
has  a  car,  or  had  one,  of  that  make.  He  might  happen  to 
have  some  bearings,  but  it  is  not  at  all  likely.  Or,  he 
could  tow  you  ten  miles  to  Monopoly.  But  Carter  is  not 
at  home  yet." 

The  young  man  fairly  frothed  at  the  mouth : 
"  Do  you  rnean  to  tell  me  that  there  is  no  one  can 
mend  a  broken  machine  around  this  forsaken  dump? 
Where's  your  nearest  garage?  Send  for  a  man  to  come 
at  once.  I'm  willing  to  pay  anything,"  he  flourished  a 
handful  of  bills. 

The  minister  looked  at  his  watch  anxiously : 
"  I'm  sorry,"  he  said  again,  "  I've  got  to  go  to  the 
service  now.  There  is  a  garage  at  Monopoly  and  their 
number  is  97-M.  You  can  phone  them  if  you  are  not 
satisfied.  I  tried  them  quite  early  this  morning  while  you 
were  still  sleeping,  but  there  was  nothing  doing.  The 
truth  is  the  people  around  this  region  are  a  little  prejudiced 
■against  working  seven  days  out  of  the  week,  although 
^phey  will  help  a  man  out  in  a  case  like  yours  when  they  can, 
^■>ut  it  seems  the  repair  man,  the  only  one  who  knows  about 


84  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

funeral  and  won't  be  back  till  to-morrow  morning.  Now, 
if  you're  quite  comfortable  FU  have  to  leave  you  for  a 
little  while.    It  is  time  for  my  service  to  begin." 

The  young  man  looked  at  his  host  with  astonishment. 
He  was  not  used  to  being  treated  in  this  off-hand  way.  He 
could  hardly  believe  his  ears.  Throw  back  his  money  and 
lay  down  the  law  that  way  1 

"  Wait !  "  he  thundered  as  the  door  was  about  to  close 
upon  the  departing  minister. 

Severn  turned  and  regarded  his  guest  quietly, 
questioningly : 

"  Who's  that  girl  over  there  in  the  window  playing 
the  organ  ? "  He  pulled  the  curtain  aside  and  revealed  a 
glimpse  of  the  white  and  gold  saint  framed  in  the  ivy. 
Severn  gave  a  swift  cold  glance  at  the  insolent  youth  and 
then  answered  with  a  slightly  haughty  note  in  his  cour- 
teous voice,  albeit  a  quiver  of  amusement  on  his  lip : 

"  That  is  my  daughter." 

Laurence  Shaft  on  dropped  the  curtain  and  turned  to 
stare  at  his  host,  but  the  minister  had  closed  the  door  and 
was  already  on  his  way  to  church.  Then  the  youth  pulled 
back  the  curtain  again  and  regarded  the  lady.  The  man's 
daughter !    And  playing  like  that ! 

The  rich  notes  of  the  organ  were  rolling  out  into  the 
summer  day,  a  wonderful  theme  from  an  old  master, 
grandly  played.  Yes,  she  could  play.  She  had  been  well 
taught.  And  the  looks  of  her !  She  was  wonderful  at  this 
distance.  Were  these  then  wealthy  people  perhaps  sum- 
mering in  this  quiet  resort  ?  He  glanced  about  at  the  simple 
furnishings.  That  was  a  good  rug  at  his  feet,  worn  in 
places,  but  soft  in  tone  and  unmistakably  of  the  Orient. 
The  desk  was  of  fumed  oak,  somewhat  massive  and  digni- 
fied with  a  touch  of  hand  carving.  The  chairs  were  of  the 
same  dark  oak  with  leather  cushions,  and  the  couch  so 
covered  by  his  bed  drapery  that  he  could  not  see  it,  but  he 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  85 

remembered  its  comfort.  There  was  nothing  showy  or 
expensive  looking  but  ever3^hing  simple  and  good.  One 
or  two  fine  old  pictures  on  the  wall  gave  evidence  of  good 
taste.  The  only  luxury  seemed  books,  rows  and  rows  of 
them  behind  glass  doors  in  cases  built  into  the  wall.  They 
lined  each  space  between  windows  and  doors,  and  in  sev- 
eral spots  reached  to  the  ceiling.  He  decided  that  these 
people  must  have  had  money  and  lost  it.  These  things 
were  old  and  had  perhaps  been  inherited.  But  the  girl! 
She  teased  his  curiosity.  She  seemed  of  a  type  entirely 
new,  and  most  attractive.  Well,  here  was  good  luck  again ! 
He  would  stay  till  church  was  out  and  see  what  she  might 
be  like  at  nearer  view.  It  might  amuse  him  to  play  the 
invalid  for  a  day  or  two  and  investigate  her.  Meantime, 
he  must  call  up  that  garage  and  see  what  could  be  done  for 
the  car.  If  he  could  get  it  patched  up  by  noon  he  might 
take  the  girl  out  for  a  spin  in  the  afternoon.  One  could 
judge  a  girl  much  better  getting  her  off  by  herself  that 
way.  He  didn't  seem  to  relish  the  memory  of  that  father's 
smile  and  haughty  tone  as  he  said  "  My  daughter."  Prob- 
ably was  all  kinds  of  fussy  about  her.  But  if  the  girl  had 
any  pep  at  all  she  surely  would  enjoy  getting  away  from 
oversight  for  a  few  hours.  He  hoped  Opal  would  call 
before  they  got  back  from  their  service.  It  might  be 
awkward  talking  with  them  all  around. 

But  the  organ  was  suddenly  drowned  in  a  burst 
of  song: 

"Glory  be  to  the  Father,  and  to  the  Son,  and  to  the  Holy- 
Ghost,  As  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now  and  ever  shall  be — world 
without  end,  Amen !  " 

Somehow  the  words  struck  him  with  a  strange  awe, 
they  were  so  distinct,  and  almost  in  the  room  with  him. 
He  looked  about  half  feeling  that  the  room  was  filled  with 
people,  and  felt  curiously  alone.     There  was  an  atmos- 


86  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

phere  in  the  little  house  of  everybody  being  gone  to  church. 
They  had  all  gone  and  left  him  alone.  It  amused  him. 
He  wondered  about  this  odd  family  who  seemed  to  be 
under  the  domination  of  a  church  service.  They  had  left 
him  a  stranger  alone  in  their  house.  The  doors  and  win- 
dows were  all  open.  How  did  they  know  but  he  was 
a  burglar? 

Some  one  was  talking  now.  It  sounded  like  the  voice 
of  his  host.  It  might  be  a  prayer.  How  peculiar!  He 
must  be  a  preacher.  Yet:  he  had  been  sent  to  him  to  fix 
his  car.  He  did  not  look  Hke  a  laboring  man.  He  looked 
as  if  he  might  be, — ^well  almost  anything — even  a  gentle- 
man. But  if  he  was  a  clergyman,  why,  that  of  course 
explained  the  ascetic  type,  the  nun-like  profile  of  the  girl, 
the  skilled  musician.  Clergymen  were  apt  to  educate  their 
children,  even  without  much  money.  The  girl  would 
probably  be  a  prude  and  bore,  but  there  was  a  chance  that 
she  might  be  a  princess  in  disguise  and  need  a  prince  to 
show  her  a  good  time.  He  would  take  the  chance  at  least 
until  after  dinner. 

So  he  ate  his  delicate  toast,  and  drank  his  delicious 
coffee,  and  wished  he  had  asked  that  queer  man  to  have  his 
flask  filled  at  the  drug  store  before  he  went  to  his  old 
service,  but  consoled  himself  with  numerous  cigarettes, 
while  he  watched  the  face  of  the  musician,  and  listened 
idly  to  the  music. 

It  was  plain  that  the  young  organist  was  also  the  choir 
leader,  for  her  expressive  face  was  turned  toward  the 
singers,  and  her  lovely  head  kept  time.  Now  and  then  a 
motion  of  the  hand  seemed  to  give  a  direction  or  warning. 
And  the  choir  too  sang  with  great  sweetness  and  ex- 
pression. They  were  well  trained.  But  what  a  bore  such 
a  life  must  be  to  a  girl.  Still,  if  she  had  never  known 
an3^hing  else — !  Well,  he  would  like  to  see  her  at  closer 
range.    He  lit  another  cigarette  and  studied  her  profile  as 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  87 

she  slipped  out  of  the  organ  bench  and  settled  herself 
nearer  the  window.  He  could  hear  the  man's  voice  read- 
ing now.    Some  of  the  words  drew  his  idle  attention : 

"All  the  ways  of  a  man  are  clean  in  his  own  eyes;  but  the 
Lord  weigheth  the  spirits." 

Curious  sentence  that!  It  caught  in  his  brain.  It 
seemed  rather  true.  From  the  Bible  probably  of  course, 
though  he  was  not  very  familiar  with  that  volume,  never 
having  been  obliged  to  go  to  Sunday  School  in  his  child- 
hood days  ?  But  was  it  true  ?  Were  all  a  man's  ways  clean 
in  his  own  eyes  ?  Take,  for  instance,  his  own  ways  ?  He 
always  did  about  as  he  pleased,  and  he  had  never  asked 
himself  whether  his  ways  were  clean  or  not.  He  hadn't 
particularly  cared.  He  supposed  some  people  would  think 
they  were  not — but  in  his  own  eyes,  well — ^was  he  clean? 
Take  for  instance  this  expedition  of  his  ?  Running  a  race 
to  get  another  man's  wife, — an  alleged  friend's  wife,  too? 
It  did  seem  rather  despicable  when  one  thought  of  it  after 
the  jag  was  off.  But  then  one  was  not  quite  responsible 
for  what  one  did  with  a  jag  on,  and  what  the  deuce  did 
the  Lord  have  to  do  with  it  SLnyway  ?  How  could  the  Lord 
weigh  the  spirit?  That  meant  of  course  that  he  saw 
through  all  subterfuges.    Well,  what  of  it? 

Another  sentence  caught  his  ear : 

"  When  a  man's  ways  please  the  Lord,  he  maketh  even  his 
enemies  to  be  at  peace  with  him." 

How  odd,  the  Lord, — if  there  was  a  Lord,  he  had 
never  thought  much  about  it — but  how  odd,  if  there  was 
a  Lord  for  Him  to  care  about  a  man's  ways.  If  he  were 
Lord  he  wouldn't  care,  he'd  only  want  them  to  keep  out  of 
his  way.  He  would  probably  crush  them  like  ants,  if  he 
were  Lord.  But  the  Lord — ^taking  any  notice  of  men's 
ways,  and  being  pleased  by  them  and  looking  out  to  pro- 
tect him  from  enemies !    It  certainly  was  quaint — a  quaint 


88  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

idea!  He  glanced  again  at  the  reverent  face  of  the  girl, 
the  down  drooped  eyes,  the  lovely  sensitive  mouth. 
Quaint,  that  was  the  word  for  her,  quaint  and  unusual. 
He  certainly  was  going  to  enjoy  meeting  her. 

"  Ting-aling-ling-ling !  "  burst  out  the  telephone  bell 
on  the  desk.  He  frowned  and  dropped  the  curtain.  Was 
that  Opal?  He  hobbled  to  the  desk  painfully,  half  an- 
noyed that  she  had  called  him  from  the  contemplation  of 
this  novel  scene,  not  so  sure  that  he  would  bother  to  call 
up  that  garage  yet.    Let  it  go  till  he  had  sampled  the  girl. 

He  took  down  the  receiver  and  Opal's  voice  greeted 
him,  mockingly,  tauntingly  from  his  own  world.  The 
little  ivy  leaved  church  with  its  Saint  Cecilia  at  the  organ, 
and  its  strange  weird  message  about  a  God  that  cared  for 
man's  ways,  dropped  away  like  a  dream  that  was  past. 

When  he  hung  up  the  receiver  and  turned  back  to  his 
couch  again  the  girl  had  closed  the  window.  It  annoyed 
him.  He  did  not  know  how  his  giddy  badinage  had 
clashed  in  upon  the  last  words  of  the  sermon. 

It  seemed  a  long  time  after  the  closing  hymn  before 
the  little  throng  melted  away  down  the  maple  lined  street. 
The  young  man  watched  them  curiously  from  behind  his 
curtain,  finding  only  food  for  amusement  in  most  of  them. 
And  then  came  the  minister,  lingering  to  talk  to  one  here 
and  there,  and  his  wife — it  was  undoubtedly  his  wife, 
even  the  hare-brained  Laurie  knew  her,  in  the  gray 
organdie,  with  the  white  at  her  neck,  and  the  soft  white 
hat.  She  had  a  pleasant  light  in  her  eyes,  and  one  saw  at 
once  that  she  was  a  lady.  There  was  a  grace  about  her 
that  made  the  girl  seem  possible.  And  lastly,  came  the  girl. 

She  stepped  from  the  church  door  in  her  white  dress 
and  simple  white  hat,  white  even  to  her  little  shoes,  and 
correct  in  every  way,  he  could  see  that.  She  was  no 
country  gawk!  She  came  forth  lightly  into  the  sunshine 
which  caught  her  hair  in  golden  tendrils  around  her  face 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  89 

as  if  it  loved  to  hide  therein,  and  she  was  immediately 
surrounded  by  half  a  dozen  urchins.  One  had  brought  her 
some  lilies,  great  white  starry  things  with  golden  hearts, 
and  she  gathered  them  into  her  arms  as  if  she  loved  them, 
and  smiled  at  the  boys.  One  could  see  how  they  adored  her. 
She  lingered  talking  to  them,  and  laid  her  hand  on  one 
boy's  shoulder,  he  walking  like  a  knight  beside  her  trying 
to  act  as  if  he  did  not  know  her  hand  was  there.  His  head 
was  drooped,  but  he  lifted  it  with  a  grin  at  last  and  gave 
her  a  nod  which  seemed  to  make  her  glad,  for  her  face 
broke  forth  in  another  smile : 

"  Well,  don't  forget,  to-night,"  she  called  as  they 
turned  to  go,  "  and  remember  to  tell  Billy !  " 

Then  she  came  trippingly  across  the  grass,  a  song  on 
her  lips.    Some  girl  1    Say !    She  certainly  was  a  stunner  1 


I 


VIII 


Opal  Verrons  was  small  and  slight  with  large  child- 
like eyes  that  could  look  like  a  baby's,  but  that  could  hold 
the  very  devil  on  occasions.  The  eyes  were  dark  and  lus- 
trous with  long  curling  black  lashes  framing  them  in  a  face 
that  might  have  been  modeled  for  an  angel,  so  round  the 
curves,  so  enchanting  the  lips,  so  lofty  the  white  brow. 
Angele  Potocka  had  no  lovelier  set  to  her  head,  no  more 
limpal  fire  in  her  eye,  than  had  Opal  Verrons.  Indeed 
her  lovers  often  called  her  the  Fire  Opal.  The  only  dif- 
ference was  that  Angele  Potocka  developed  her  brains,  of 
which  she  had  plenty,  while  Opal  Verrons  had  placed  her 
entire  care  upon  developing  her  lovely  little  body,  though 
she  too  had  plenty  of  brains  on  occasion. 

And  she  knew  how  to  dress!  So  simply,  so  slightly 
sometimes,  so  perfectly  to  give  a  setting — the  right  setting 
— to  her  little  self.  She  wore  her  heavy  dark  hair  bobbed, 
and  it  curled  about  her  small  head  exquisitely,  giving  her 
the  look  of  a  Raphael  Cherub  or  a  boy  page  in  the  court 
of  King  Arthur.  With  a  flat  band  of  silver  olive  leaves 
about  her  brow,  and  the  soft  hair  waving  out  below, 
nothing  more  was  necessary  for  a  costume  save  a  brief 
drapery  of  silver  spangled  cloth  with  a  strap  of  jewels 
and  a  wisp  of  black  malines  for  a  scarf.  She  was  always 
startling  and  lovely  even  in  her  simplest  costume.  Many 
people  turned  to  watch  her  in  a  simple  dark  blue  serge 
made  like  a  child's  girded  with  a  delicate  arrangement  of 
medallions  and  chains  of  white  metal,  her  dark  rough 
woollen  stockings  rolled  girlishly  below  white,  dimpled 
knees,  and  her  feet  shod  in  flat  soled  white  buckskin  shoes. 
She  was  young  enough  to  "  get  away  with  it,"  the  older 
women  said  cattishly  as  they  watched  her  stroll  away  to 

90 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  91 

the  beach  with  a  new  man  each  day,  and  noted  her  art- 
less grace  and  indifferent  pose.  That  she  had  a  burly 
millionaire  husband  who  still  was  under  her  spell  and 
watched  her  jealously  only  made  her  more  interesting, 
and  they  pitied  her  for  being  tied  to  a  man  twice  her  age 
and  bulky  as  a  bale  of  cotton.  She  who  could  dance  like  a 
sylph  and  was  light  on  her  little  feet  as  a  thistle  down. 
Though  wise  ones  sometimes  said  that  Opal  had  her  young 
eyes  wide  open  when  she  married  Ed  Verrons,  and  she 
had  him  right  under  her  little  pink  well  manicured  thumb. 
And  some  said  she  was  not  nearly  so  young  as  she  looked. 
Her  hands  were  the  weakest  point  in  Opal  Verron's 
whole  outfit.  Not  that  they  were  unlovely  in  form  or 
ungraceful.  They  were  so  small  they  hardly  seemed  like 
hands,  so  undeveloped,  so  useless,  with  the  dimpling  of  a 
baby's,  yet  the  sharp  nails  of  a  little  beast.  They  were  so 
plump  and  well  cared  for  they  were  fairly  sleek,  and  had 
an  old  wise  air  about  them  as  she  patted  her  puffy  curls 
daintily  with  a  motion  all  her  own  that  showed  her  lovely 
rounded  arm,  and  every  needle-pointed  shell-tinted  finger 
nail,  sleek  and  puffy,  and  never  used,  not  even  for  a  bit 
of  embroidery  or  knitting.  She  couldn't,  you  know,  with 
those  sharp  transparent  little  nails,  they  might  break. 
They  were  like  her  little  sharp  teeth  that  always  reminded 
one  of  a  mouse's  teeth,  and  made  one  shudder  at  how 
sharp  they  would  be  should  she  ever  decide  to  bite. 

But  her  smile  was  like  the  mixing  of  all  smiles,  a 
baby's,  a  woman-of-the-world,  a  grieved  child's,  and  a 
spirit  who  had  put  aside  all  moral  purpose.  Perhaps,  like 
mixed  drinks  it  was  for  that  reason  but  the  more  intoxi- 
cating. And  because  she  did  not  hide  her  charms  and  was 
lavish  with  her  smiles,  there  were  more  poor  victims  about 
her  little  feet  than  about  any  other  woman  at  the  shore  that 
Rummer.  Men  talked  about  her  in  the  smoking  rooms  and 
Milliard  rooms  and  compared  her  tovamps  of  other  seasons, 

I 


92  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

and  decided  she  had  left  them  all  in  the  shade.  She  was 
a  perfect  production  of  the  modern  age,  more  perfect  than 
others  because  she  knew  how  to  do  the  boldest  things  with 
that  cherubic  air  that  bereft  sin  of  its  natural  ugliness  and 
made  it  beautiful  and  delicious,  as  if  degradation  had 
suddenly  become  an  exalted  thing,  like  some  of  the  old 
rites  in  a  Pagan  Temple,  and  she  a  lovely  priestess.  And 
when  each  new  folly  was  over  there  was  she  with  her  inno- 
cent baby  air,  and  her  pure  childlike  face  that  looked 
dreamily  out  from  its  frame  of  little  girl  hair,  and  seemed 
not  to  have  been  soiled  at  all.  And  so  men  who  played  her 
games  lost  their  sense  of  sin  and  fell  that  much  lower 
than  those  who  sin  and  know  it  and  are  afraid  to  look 
themselves  in  the  face.  When  a  man  loses  his  sense  of 
shame,  of  being  among  the  pigs,  he  is  in  a  far  coun- 
try indeed. 

But  Opal  Verrons  sauntering  forth  to  the  Hotel  piazza 
in  company  with  three  of  her  quondam  admirers  suddenly 
lost  her  luxurious  air  of  nestling  content.  The  hotel  clerk 
handed  her  two  telegrams  as  she  passed  the  desk.  She  tore 
them  open  carelessly,  but  her  eyes  grew  wide  with  horror 
as  she  read. 

Percy  Emerson  had  been  arrested.  He  had  run  over  a 
woman  and  a  baby  and  both  were  in  a  hospital  in  a  critical 
condition.  He  would  be  held  without  bail  until  it  was 
seen  whether  they  lived. 

She  drew  in  her  breath  with  a  frightened  gasp  and  bit 
at  her  red  lip  with  her  little  sharp  teeth.  A  pretty  child 
with  floating  curls  and  dainty  apparel  ran  laughing  across 
her  way,  its  hand  outstretched  to  a  tiny  white  dog  that 
was  dancing  after  her,  and  Opal  gave  a  sharp  cry  and 
tore  the  telegram  into  small  bits.  But  when  she  opened 
the  second  message  her  face  paled  under  its  delicate  rouge 
as  she  read :  "  Mortimer  McMarter  killed  in  an  accident 
when  his  car  collided  with  a  truck.     His  body  lies  at 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  93 

Saybrook  Inn.  We  find  your  address  on  his  person,  with 
a  request  to  let  you  know  if  anything  happens  to  him. 
What  do  you  wish  done  with  the  body?  '' 

Those  who  watched  her  face  as  she  read  say  that  it 
took  on  an  ashen  color  and  she  looked  years  older.  Her 
real  spirit  seemed  to  be  looking  forth  from  those  wide 
limpid  eyes  for  an  instant,  the  spirit  of  a  coward  who  had 
been  fooling  the  world ;  the  spirit  of  a  lost  soul  who  had 
grown  old  in  sin ;  the  spirit  of  a  soul  who  had  stepped  over 
the  bounds  and  sinned  beyond  her  depth. 

She  looked  about  upon  them  all,  stricken,  appalled, — 
not  sorry  but  just  afraid, — and  not  for  her  friends,  but 
for  herself!  And  then  she  gave  a  horrid  little  lost  laugh 
and  dropping  the  telegram  as  if  it  had  burned  her,  she 
flung  out  her  voice  upon  them  with  a  blaze  in  her  big 
eyes  and  a  snarl  in  her  lute-voice : 

"  Well,  I  wasn't  to  blame  was  I  ?  They  all  were  grown 
men,  weren't  they?  It  was  up  to  them.  Tm  going  to  get 
out  of  here !    This  is  an  awful  place !  " 

She  gave  a  shudder  and  turning  swiftly  fled  to  the 
elevator,  catching  it  just  as  the  door  was  being  shut,  and 
they  saw  her  rising  behind  the  black  and  gold  grating  and 
waving  a  mocking  little  white  hand  at  them  as  they 
watched  her  amazed.  Then  one  of  them  stooped  and 
picked  up  the  telegram.  And  while  they  still  stood  at  the 
doorway  wondering  some  one  pointed  to  a  brilliant  blue 
car  that  was  sliding  down  the  avenue  across  the  beach  road. 

"  She  has  gone !  "  they  said  looking  at  one  another 
strangely.    Did  she  really  care  then? 

The  dinner  at  Sabbath  Valley  parsonage  was  a  good 
one.  It  was  quite  different  from  any  dinner  Laurie 
Shafton  had  ever  eaten  before.  It  had  a  taste  that  he 
hadn't  imagined  just  plain  chicken  and  mashed  potatoes 
and  bread  and  butter  and  coffee  and  cherry  pie  could  have. 


94  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Those  were  things  he  seldom  picked  out  from  a  menu, 
and  he  met  them  as  something  new  and  delicious,  prepared 
in  this  wonderful  country  way. 

Also  the  atmosphere  was  queer  and  interesting. 

The  minister  had  helped  him  into  the  dining-room,  a 
cheery  room  with  a  bay  window  looking  toward  the  church 
and  a  window  box  of  nasturtiums  in  which  the  bees  hum- 
med and  buzzed. 

The  girl  came  in  and  acknowledged  the  casual  intro- 
duction of  her  father  with  a  quite  sophisticated  nod  and 
sat  down  across  from  him.  And  there  was  a  prayer  at 
the  beginning  of  the  meal!  Just  as  he  was  about  to  say 
something  graceful  to  the  girl,  there  was  a  prayer.  It  was 
almost  embarrassing.  He  had  never  seen  one  before  like 
this.  At  a  boarding  school  once  he  had  experienced  a 
thing  they  called  "  grace "  which  consisted  in  standing 
behind  their  chairs  while  the  entire  assembled  hungry  mul- 
titude repeated  a  poem  of  a  religious  nature.  He  remem- 
bered they  used  to  spend  their  time  making  up  parodies 
on  it — one  ran  something  about  "  this  same  old  fish  upon 
my  plate,"  and  rhymed  with  "  hate."  He  stared  at  the 
lovely  bowed  hair  of  the  girl  across  the  table  while  it  was 
going  on,  and  got  ready  a  remark  calculated  to  draw  her 
smiles,  but  the  girl  lifted  eyes  that  seemed  so  far  away 
he  felt  as  though  she  did  not  see  him,  and  he  contented 
himself  with  replying  to  his  host's  question  something 
about  the  part  of  the  chicken  he  liked  best.  It  was  a 
queer  home  to  him,  it  seemed  so  intimate.  Even  the 
chicken  seemed  to  be  a  detail  of  their  life  together,  per- 
haps because  there  was  only  one  chicken,  and  one  breast. 
Where  he  dwelt  there  were  countless  breasts,  and  every- 
body had  a  whole  breast  if  he  wanted  it,  or  a  whole  chicken 
for  the  matter  of  that.  Here  they  had  to  stop  and  ask 
what  others  liked  before  they  chose  for  themselves.  This 
analysis  went  queerly  on  in  his  mind  while  he  sat  waiting 


THE  CITY  OF  FERE  95 

for  his  plate  and  wondering  over  the  little  things  they 
were  talking  about.  Mrs.  Severn  said  Miss  Saxon  had 
been  crying  all  through  church,  and  she  told  her  Billy  had 
been  away  all  night.  She  was  awfully  worried  about  his 
going  with  that  baseball  team 

A  fleeting  shadow  passed  over  the  girl's  face : 

"  Billy  promised  me  he  would  be  there  to-day/'  she 
said  thoughtfully,  "  something  must  have  happened.  I 
don't  think  Billy  was  with  the  baseball  team — "  then  her 
eyes  travelled  away  out  the  window  to  the  distant  hills, 
she  didn't  seem  to  see  Laurence  Shafton  at  all.  It  was  a 
new  experience  for  him.  He  was  fairly  good  looking  and 
knew  it. 

Who  the  deuce  was  this  Billy?  And  what  did  she  care 
about  Miss  Saxon  crying  ?  Did  she  care  so  much  for  Billy 
already?  Would  it  be  worth  his  while  to  make  her  uncare? 

"  Mrs.  Carter  wasn't  out,"  said  Mrs.  Severn  as  she 
poured  coffee,  **  I  hope  she's  not  having  more  trouble  with 
her  neuralgia." 

The  minister  suddenly  looked  up  from  his  carving : 

*'  Did  Mark  come  back  yesterday,  Marilyn?  " 

The  girl  drew  a  quick  breath  and  brought  back  her 
eyes  from  the  hills,  but  she  did  not  look  at  the  young  man : 
"  No,  father  he  didn't  come." 

Who  the  deuce  was  Mark?  Of  course  there  would 
be  several,  but  there  was  always  one.  Billy  and  Mark ! 
It  was  growing  interesting. 

But  Billy  and  Mark  were  not  mentioned  again,  though 
a  deep  gravity  seemed  to  have  settled  into  the  eyes  of  the 
family  since  their  names  had  come  up.  Laurie  decided  to 
speak  of  the  weather  and  the  roads : 

'*  Glorious  weather  we're  having,"  he  chirped  out 
condescendingly,  "  But  you  certainly  have  the  limit  for 

I  roads.  What's  the  matter  with  the  highway?  .  Had  a 
Detour  right  in  the  best  part  of  the  road.  Bridge  down, 
i 


96  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

it  said,  road  flooded!  Made  the  deuce  of  a  time 
for  me — !  " 

"  Bridge  ?"  remarked  Marilyn  looking  up  thoughtfully. 

"Flood?"  echoed  the  minister  sharply. 

"  Yes.  About  two  miles  back  where  the  highway 
crosses  this  valley.  Put  me  in  some  fix.  Had  a  bet  on  you 
know.  Date  with  a  lady.  Staked  a  lot  of  money  on 
winning,  too.  Hard  luck,"  Then  he  looked  across  at 
Marilyn's  attentive  face.  Ah!  He  was  getting  her  at 
last !    More  on  that  line. 

"  But  it'll  not  be  all  loss,"  he  added  gallantly  with  a 
gesture  of  admiration  toward  her,  "  You  see  I  didn't  have 
any  idea  I  was  going  to  meet  you." 

But  Marilyn's  eyes  were  regarding  him  soberly,  stead- 
ily, analytically,  without  an  answering  smile.  It  was 
as  if  she  did  not  like  what  he  had  said — if  indeed  she 
had  heard  it  at  all — ^as  if  she  were  offended  at  it.  Then 
the  eyes  took  on  an  impersonal  look  and  wandered  thought- 
fully to  the  mountains  in  the  distance.  Laurie  felt  his 
cheeks  burn.  He  felt  almost  embarrassed  again,  like 
during  the  prayer.  Didn't  the  girl  know  he  was  paying 
her  a  compliment?  Or  was  she  such  a  prude  that  she 
thought  him  presuming  on  so  slight  an  acquaintance? 
Her  father  was  speaking: 

"  I  don't  quite  understand,"  "he  said  thoughtfully. 
"There  is  no  bridge  within  ten  miles,  and  nothing  to  flood 
the  road  but  the  Creek,  which  never  was  known  to  over- 
flow its  banks  more  than  a  few  feet  at  most.  The  highway 
is  far  above  the  valley.  You  must  have  been  a  bit 
turned  around." 

The  young  man  laughed  lightly : 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  had  a  jag  on.  I'm  not  surprised. 
I'd  been  driving  for  hours  and  had  to  drink  to  keep  my 
nerve  till  morning.  There  were  some  dandy  spilling  places 
around  those  mountain  curves.  One  doesn't  care  to  look 
out  and  see  when  one  is  driving  at  top  speed." 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  97 


I 

^  Heavens!  What  had  he  said  now?  The  girl's  eyes 
came  round  to  look  him  over  again  and  went  through  to 
his  soul  like  a  lightning  flash  and  away  again,  and  there 
was  actually  scorn  on  her  lips.  He  must  take  another 
line.  He  couldn't  understand  this  haughty  country  beauty 
in  the  least. 

"  I  certainly  did  enjoy  your  music,"  he  flashed  forth 
with  a  little  of  his  own  natural  gaiety  in  his  voice  that 
made  him  so  universal  a  favorite. 

The  gitl  turned  gravely  toward  him  and  surveyed  him 
once  more  as  if  she  were  surprised  and  perhaps  had  not 
done  him  justice.  She  looked  like  one  who  would  always 
be  willing  to  do  one  justice.    He  felt  encouraged : 

"If  it  hadn't  been  for  this  blamed  foot  of  mine  I'd 
have  hobbled  over  to  the — service.  I  was  sorry  not  to 
hear  the  music  closer." 

"  There  is  another  service  this  evening,"  she  said 
pleasantly,  "  Perhaps  father  can  help  you  over.  It  is  a 
rather  good  organ  for  so  small  a  one."  She  was  trying  to 
be  polite  to  him.  It  put  him  on  his  metal.  It  made  him 
remember  how  rude  he  had  been  to  her  father  the 
night  before. 

"  Delightful  organ  I'm  sure,"  he  returned,  "  but  it  was 
the  organist  that  I  noticed.  One  doesn't  often  hear  such 
playing  even  on  a  good  organ." 

"  Oh,  I've  been  well  taught,"  said  the  girl  without  self- 
consciousness.  "  But  the  children  are  to  sing  this  evening. 
You'll  like  to  hear  the  children  I'm  sure.  They  are  doing 
fairly  well  now." 

"  Charmed,  I'm  sure,"  he  said  with  added  flattery  of 
his  eyes  which  she  did  not  take  at  all  because  she  was 
passing  her  mother's  plate  for  more  gravy.  How  odd  not 
to  have  a  servant  pass  it ! 

"  You  come  from  New  York  ?  "  the  host  hazarded. 

"  Yes,"  drawled  the  youth,  "  Shafton's  my  name, 
7 


98  THE  CITY  OF  FIBE 

Laurence  Shafton,  son  of  William  J.,  of  Shafton  and 
Gates  you  know,"  he  added  impressively. 

The  host  was  polite  but  unimpressed.  It  was  almost 
as  though  he  had  never  heard  of  William  J.  Shafton  the 
multi-millionaire.  Or  was  it  ?  Dash  the  man,  he  had  such  a 
way  with  him  of  acting  as  though  he  knew  everything  and 
nothing  impressed  him ;  as  though  he  was  just  as  good  as 
the  next  one !  As  though  his  father  was  something  even 
greater  than  a  millionaire!  He  didn't  seem  to  be  in  the 
least  like  Laurie's  idea  of  a  clergyman.  He  couldn't  seem 
to  get  anywhere  with  him. 

The  talk  drifted  on  at  the  table,  ebbing  and  flowing 
about  the  two  ladies  as  the  tide  touches  a  rising  strand 
and  runs  away.  The  girl  and  her  mother  answered  his 
questions  with  direct  steady  gaze,  and  polite  phrases,  but 
they  did  not  gush  nor  have  the  attitude  of  taking  him 
eagerly  into  their  circle  as  he  was  accustomed  to  being 
taken  in  wherever  he  went.  Nothing  he  said  seemed  to 
reach  further  than  kindly  hospitality.  When  that  was 
fulfilled  they  were  done  and  went  back  to  their 
own  interests. 

Marilyn  did  not  seem  to  consider  the  young  man  a  guest 
of  hers  in  any  sense  personally.  After  the  dinner  she  moved 
quietly  out  to  the  porch  and  seated  herself  in  a  far  chair 
with  a  leather  bound  book,  perhaps  a  Bible,  or  prayer 
book.  He  wasn't  very  familiar  with  such  things.  She 
took  a  little  gold  pencil  from  a  chain  about  her  neck  and 
made  notes  on  a  bit  of  paper  from  what  she  read,  and  she 
joined  not  at  all  in  the  conversation  unless  she  was  spoken 
to,  and  then  her  thoughts  seemed  to  be  elsewhere.  It 
was  maddening. 

Once  when  a  tough  looking  little  urchin  went  by  witK 
a  grin  she  flew  down  off  the  porch  to  the  gate  to  talk  with 
iiim ;  she  stood  there  some  time  in  earnest  converse.    What 


THE  CITY  OF  FIEE  99 

could  a  girl  like  that  find  to  say  to  a  mere  kid  ?  When  she 
came  back  there  was  a  look  of  trouble  in  her  eyes,  and  by 
and  by  her  father  asked  if  Harry  had  seen  Billy,  and  she 
shook  her  head  with  a  cloud  on  her  brow.  It  must  be 
Billy  then.  Billy  was  the  one!  Well,  dash  him!  If  he 
couldn't  go  one  better  than  Billy  he  would  see !  Anyhow 
Billy  didn't  have  a  sprained  ankle,  and  a  place  in  the 
family !  A  girl  like  that  was  worth  a  few  days'  invalidism. 
His  ankle  didn't  hurt  much  since  the  minister  had  dressed 
it  again.  He  believed  he  could  get  up  and  walk  if  he  liked, 
but  he  did  not  mean  to.  He  meant  to  stay  here  a  few  days 
and  conquer  this  young  beauty.  It  was  likely  only  her  way 
of  vamping  a  man,  anyway,  and  a  mighty  tantalizing  one 
at  that.  Well,  he  would  show  her!  And  he  would  show 
Billy,  too,  whoever  Billy  was !  A  girl  like  that !  Why, — A 
girl  like  that  with  a  face  like  that  would  grace  any  gather- 
ing, any  home !  He  had  the  fineness  of  taste  to  realize  that 
after  he  got  done  playing  around  with  Opal  and  women  like 
her,  this  would  be  a  lady  any  one  would  be  proud  to  settle 
down  to.  And  why  not?  If  he  chose  to  fall  in  love  with 
a  country  nobody,  why  could' nt  he  ?  What  was  the  use  of 
being  Laurie  Shafton,  son  of  the  great  William  J.  Shafton, 
if  he  couldn't  marry  whom  he  would?  Shafton  would  be 
enough  to  bring  any  girl  up  to  par  in  any  society  in  the 
universe.  So  Laurie  Shafton  set  himself  busily  to 
be  agreeable. 

And  presently  his  opportunity  arrived.  Mrs.  Severn 
had  gone  in  the  house  to  take  a  nap,  and  the  minister  had 
been  called  away  to  see  a  sick  man.  The  girl  continued  to 
study  her  little  book : 

"  I  wish  you  would  come  and  amuse  me,"  he  said  in 
the  voice  of  an  interesting  invalid. 

The  girl  looked  up  and  smiled  absently: 

"I'm  sorry,"  she  said,   "but  I  have  to  go  to  my 


100  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Sunday-school  class  in  a  few  minutes,  and  I  was  just  get- 
ting my  lesson  ready.  Would  you  like  me  to  get  you 
something  to  read?  " 

"  No,"  he  answered  crossly.  He  was  not  used  to  being 
crossed  in  any  desire  by  a  lady,  "  I  want  you  to  talk  to  me. 
Bother  the  Sunday-school!  Give  them  a  vacation  to-day 
and  let  them  go  fishing.  They^ll  be  delighted,  Fm  sure. 
You  have  a  wonderful  foot.  Do  you  know  it?  You  must 
be  a  good  dancer.  Haven't  you  a  victrola  here?  We 
might  dance  if  only  my  foot  weren't  out  of  commission." 

*'  I  don't  dance,  Mr.  Shafton,  and  it  is  the  Sabbath," 
she  smiled  indulgently  with  her  eyes  on  her  book. 

"  Why  don't  you  dance  ?  I  could  teach  you  easily. 
And  what  has  the  Sabbath  got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  But  I  don't  care  to  dance.  It  doesn't  appeal  to  me  in 
the  least.  And  the  Sabbath  has  everything  to  do  with  it. 
If  I  did  dance  I  would  not  do  it  to-day." 

"  But  why?  "  he  asked  in  genuine  wonder. 

"  Because  this  is  the  day  set  apart  for  enjoying  God 
and  not  enjoying  ourselves." 

He  stared. 

"You  certainly  are  the  most  extraordinary  young 
woman  I  ever  met,"  he  said  admiringly,  "  Did  no  one  ever 
tell  you  that  you  are  very  beautiful." 

She  gave  him  the  benefit  of  her  beautiful  eyes  then  in 
a  cold  amused  glance : 

"  Among  my  friends,  Mr.  Shafton,  it  is  not  considered 
good  form  to  say  such  things  to  a  lady  of  slight  acquaint- 
ance." She  rose  and  gathered  up  her  book  and  hat  that 
lay  on  the  floor  beside  her  chair,  and  drew  herself  up  till 
she  seemed  almost  regal. 

Laurie    Shafton    stumbled    to    his    feet.      He    WJ 
ashamed.     He  felt  almost  as  he  had  felt  once  when  h< 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  101 

was  caught  with  a  jag  on  being  rude  to  a  friend  of 
his  mother's : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  gracefully,  "  I  hope  you 
will  believe  me,  I  meant  no  harm." 

"  It  is  no  matter,"  said  the  girl  graciously,  "  only  I  do 
not  like  it.  Now  you  must  excuse  me.  I  see  my  class 
are  gathering." 

She  put  the  hat  on  carelessly,  with  a  push  and  a  pat  and 
slipped  past  him  down  the  steps  and  across  the  lawn.  Her 
dress  brushed  against  his  foot  as  she  went  and  it  seemed 
like  the  touch  of  something  ethereal.  He  never  had  felt 
such  an  experience  before. 

She  walked  swiftly  to  a  group  of  boys,  ugly,  uncomely, 
overgrown  kids,  the  same  who  had  followed  her  after 
church,  and  met  them  with  eagerness.  He  felt  a  jealous 
chagrin  as  he  watched  them  follow  her  into  the  church, 
an  anger  that  she  dared  to  trample  upon  him  that  way, 
a  fierce  desire  to  get  away  and  quaff  the  cup  of  admira^ 
tion  at  the  hand  of  some  of  his  own  friends,  or  to  quaff 
some  cup,  any  cup,  for  he  was  thirsty,  thirsty,  thirsty, 
and  this  was  a  dry  and  barren  land.  If  he  did  stay  and 
try  to  win  this  haughty  country  beauty  he  would  have  to 
find  a  secret  source  of  supply  somewhere  or  he  never 
would  be  able  to  live  through  it. 

The  Sunday-school  hour  wore  away  while  he  was 
planning  how  to  revenge  himself,  but  she  did  not  return. 
She  lingered  for  a  long  time  on  the  church  steps  talking 
with  those  everlasting  kids  again,  and  after  they  were 
gone  she  went  back  into  the  church  and  began  to  play  low; 
sweet  music. 

J.t  was  growing  late.  Long  red  beams  slanted  down 
the  village  street  across  the  lawn,  lingered  and  went  out. 
A  single  ruby  burned  on  one  of  the  memorial  windows 


102  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

like  a  lamp,  and  went  purple  and  then  gray.  It  was 
growing  dusk,  and  that  girl  played  on !  Dash  it  all !  Why 
didn't  she  quit?  It  was  wonderful  music,  but  he  wanted 
to  talk  to  her.  If  he  hobbled  slowly  could  he  get  across 
that  lawn?  He  decided  to  try.  And  then,  just  as  he  rose 
and  steadied  himself  by  the  porch  pillar,  down  the  street 
in  a  whirl  of  dust  and  noisy  claxon  there  came  a  great 
blue  car  and  drew  up  sharp  in  front  of  the  door,  while  a 
lute-like  voice  shouted  gaily:  "Laurie,  Laurie  Shafton, 
is  that  you?" 


IX 

After  Billy  had  listened  a  long  time  he  took  a  single 
step  to  relieve  his  cramped  toes,  which  were  numb  with  the 
tensity  of  his  strained  position.  Stealthily  as  he  could  he 
moved  his  shoe,  but  it  seemed  to  grind  loudly  upon  the 
cement  floor  of  the  cellar,  and  he  stopped  frozen  in  tensity 
again  to  hsten.  After  a  second  he  heard  a  low  growl  as 
if  someone  outside  the  house  were  speaking.  Then  all  was 
still.  After  a  time  he  heard  the  steps  again,  cautiously, 
walking  over  his  head,  and  his  spine  seemed  to  rise  right 
up  and  lift  him,  as  he  stood  trembling.  He  wasn't  a  bit 
superstitious,  Billy  wasn't.  He  knew  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  a  ghost,  and  he  wasn't  going  to  be  fooled  by  any 
noises  whatsoever,  but  anybody  would  admit  it  was  an 
unpleasant  position  to  be  in,  pinned  in  a  dark  unfamiliar 
cellar  without  a  flash  light,  and  steps  coming  overhead, 
where  only  a  dead  man  or  a  doped  man  was  supposed  to 
be.  He  cast  one  swift  glance  back  at  the  cobwebby  win- 
dow through  which  he  had  so  recently  arrived,  and  longed 
to  be  back  again,  out  in  the  open  with  the  bells,  the  good 
bells  sounding  a  call  in  his  ears.  K  he  were  out  wouldn't 
he  run?  Wouldn't  he  even  leave  his  old  bicycle  to  any 
fate  and  runf  But  no!  He  couldn't!  He  would  have  to 
come  back  inevitably.  Whoever  was  upstairs  in  that  house 
alone  and  in  peril  he  must  save.  Suppose — ! — His  heart 
gave  a  great  dry  sob  within  him  and  he  turned  away  from 
the  dusty  exit  that  looked  so  little  now  and  so  inadequate 
for  sudden  flight. 

The  steps  went  on  overhead  shuffling  a  little  louder,  as 
they  seemed  further  off.  They  were  climbing  the  stair 
he  believed.  They  wore  rubber  heels!  Link  had  worn 
rubber  heels !    And  Shorty's  shoes  were  covered  with  old 

103 


104  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

overshoes!  Had  they  come  back,  perhaps  to  hide  from 
their  pursuers?  His  heart  sank.  H  that  were  so  he  must 
get  out  somehow  and  go  after  the  police,  but  that  should 
be  his  last  resort.  He  didn't  want  to  get  any  one  else  in 
this  scrape  until  he  knew  exactly  what  sort  of  a  scrape  it 
was.  It  wasn't  square  to  anybody — not  square  to  the 
doped  man,  not  square  to  himself,  not  even  square  to  Pat 
and  the  other  two,  and — ^yes,  he  must  own  it, — not  square 
to  Cart.  That  was  his  first  consideration.  Cart !  He  must 
find  Cart.  But  first  he  must  find  out  somehow  who  that 
man  was  that  had  been  kidnapped. 

It  seemed  an  age  that  he  waited  there  in  the  cellar  and 
everything  so  still.  Once  he  heard  a  door  far  up  open, 
and  little  shuffling  noises,  and  by  and  by  he  could  not  stand 
it  any  longer.  Getting  down  softly  on  all  fours,  he  crept 
slowly,  nioselessly  over  to  the  cellar  stairs,  and  began 
climbing,  stopping  at  every  step  to  listen.  His  efforts  were 
much  hampered  by  the  milk  bottle  which  kept  dragging 
down  to  one  side  and  threatening  to  hit  against  the  steps. 
But  he  felt  that  milk  was  essential  to  his  mission.  He 
dared  not  go  without  it.  The  tools  were  in  his  other 
pocket.  They  too  kept  catching  in  his  sleeve  as  he  moved 
cautiously.  At  last  he  drew  himself  to  the  top  step.  There 
was  a  crack  of  light  under  the  door.  Suppose  it  should  be 
locked?  He  could  saw  out  a  panel,  but  that  would  make  a 
noise,  and  he  still  had  the  feeling  that  someone  was  in  that 
house.  A  cellar  was  not  a  nice  place  in  which  to  be  trapped. 
One  bottle  of  milk  wouldn't  keep  him  alive  very  long.  The 
haunted  house  was  a  great  way  from  anywhere.  Even 
the  bells  couldn't  call  him  from  there,  once  anybody  chose 
to  fasten  him  in  the  cellar,  and  find  the  loose  window  and 
fasten  it  up — ! 

Such  thoughts  poured  a  torrent  of  hot  fire  through 
his  brain  while  his  cold  fingers  gripped  the  door  knob, 
and  slowly,  fiercely,  compellingly,  made  it  turn  in  its 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  105 

socket  till  its  rusty  old  spring  whined  in  complaint,  and 
then  he  held  his  breath  to  listen  again.  It  seemed  an  age 
before  he  dared  put  any  weight  upon  that  unlatched  door 
to  see  if  it  would  move,  and  then  he  did  it  so  cautiously 
that  he  was  not  sure  it  was  opening  till  a  ray  of  light  from 
a  high  little  window  shot  into  his  eyes  and  blinded  him. 
He  held  the  knob  like  a  vise,  and  it  was  another  age 
before  he  dared  slowly  release  the  spring  and  relax  his 
hand.  Then  he  looked  around.  He  found  himself  in  a 
kind  of  narrow  butler's  pantry  with  a  swinging  door 
opposite  him  into  the  room  at  the  back,  and  a  narrow  pas- 
sage leading  around  the  corner  next  the  door.  He  peeked 
cautiously,  blinkingly  round  the  door  jamb  and  saw  the 
lower  step  of  what  must  be  back  stairs.  There  were  no 
back  stairs  in  Aunt  Saxon's  house,  but  before  his  mother 
died  Billy  Gaston  had  lived  in  the  city  where  they  always 
had  back  stairs.  That  door  before  him  likely  led  to  the 
dining-room.  He  took  a  careful  step,  pushed  the  swing 
door  half  an  inch  and  satisfied  himself  that  was  the  kitchen 
at  the  back.  No  one  there.  Another  step  or  two  gave 
him  the  same  assurance  about  the  dining-room  and  no  one 
there.  He  surveyed  the  distance  to  the  foot  of  the  back 
stairs  It  seemed  long.  What  he  was  afraid  of  was  that 
light  space  at  the  foot  of  those  stairs.  He  was  almost 
sure  there  was  a  hall  straight  through  to  the  front  door, 
and  he  had  a  hunch  that  that  front  door  was  open.  If 
he  passed  the  steps  and  anyone  was  there  they  would  see 
him,  and  yet  he  wanted  to  get  up  those  stairs  now,  right 
away,  before  anything  more  happened.  It  was  too  still  up 
there  to  suit  him.  With  trembling  fingers  he  untied  his 
shoe  strings,  and  slipped  off  his  shoes,  knotting  the  strings 
together  and  slinging  the  shoes  around  his  neck.  He  was 
taking  no  chances  He  gripped  the  revolver  with  one  hand 
and  stole  out  cautiously.  When  he  reached  the  end  of  the 
dining-room  wall  he  applied  an  eye  toward  the  opening  of 


106  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

light,  and  behold  it  was  as  he  had  suspected,  a  hall  leading 
straight  through  to  the  front  door,  and  Shorty,  with  his 
full  length  profile  cut  clear  against  the  morning,  standing 
on  the  upper  step  keeping  lookout !  He  dodged  back  and 
caught  his  breath,  then  made  a  noiseless  dart  toward  those 
stairs.  If  Shorty  heard,  or  if  he  turned  and  saw  anything 
he  must  have  thought  it  was  the  reported  ghost  walking, 
so  silently  and  like  a  breath  passed  Billy  up  the  stair.  But 
when  he  was  come  to  the  top,  he  held  his  breath  again, 
for  now  he  could  distinctly  hear  steps  walking  about  in  the 
room  close  at  hand,  and  peering  up  he  saw  the  door  was 
open  part  way.  He  paused  again  to  reconnoitre  and  his 
heart  set  up  an  intolerable  pounding  in  his  breast. 

He  could  dimly  make  out  the  back  of  a  chair,  and 
further  against  a  patch  of  light  where  the  back  window 
must  be  he  could  see  the  foot  board  of  a  bed,  the  head  of 
which  must  be  against  the  opposite  wall  The  door  was 
open  about  a  third  of  the  way.  There  was  a  key  in  the 
lock.  Did  that  mean  that  they  locked  the  man  in?  It 
would  be  a  great  thing  to  get  hold  of  that  key ! 

A  moan  in  the  direction  of  the  bed  startled  him,  and 
prodded  his  weary  mind.  He  gave  a  quick  silent  spring 
across  in  front  of  the  door  and  flattened  himself  against  the 
wall.  He  knew  he  had  made  a  slight  noise  in  his  going, 
and  he  felt  the  stillness  in  the  room  behind  the  half  open 
door.  Link  had  heard  him.  It  was  a  long  time  before  he 
dared  stir  again. 

Link  seemed  to  lay  down  something  on  the  floor  that 
sounded  like  a  dish  and  start  toward  the  door.  Billy  felt  the 
blood  fly  to  the  top  of  his  head.  If  Link  came  out  he  was 
caught.  Where  could  he  fly?  Not  down  stairs.  Shorty  was 
there,  with  a  gun  of  course.  Would  it  do  to  snap  that  door 
shut  and  lock  Link  in  with  the  prisoner  ?  No  telling  what  he 
might  do,  and  Shorty  would  come  if  there  was  an  outcry. 
He  waited  in  an  agony  of  suspense,  but  Link  did  not  come 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  107 

out  yet.  Instead  he  tiptoed  back  to  the  bed  again,  and 
seemed  to  be  arranging  some  things  out  of  a  basket  on  a 
Httle  stand  by  the  bed.  Billy  applied  an  eye  to  the  crack 
of  the  door  and  got  a  brief  glimpse.  Then  cautiously  he 
put  out  his  stubby  fingers  and  grasped  that  key,  firmly, 
gently;  turning,  slipping,  little  by  little,  till  he  had  it  safe 
in  his  possession.  Several  times  he  thought  Link  turned 
and  looked  toward  the  door.  Once  he  almost  dropped 
the  key  as  he  was  about  to  set  it  free  from  the  lock,  but 
his  anxious  fingers  were  true  to  their  trust,  and  the  key 
was  at  last  drawn  back  and  safely  slid  into  Billy's  pocket. 
Then  he  looked  around  for  a  place  to  hide.  There  were 
rooms  on  the  front,  and  a  door  was  open.  He  could  slide 
in  there  and  hide  It  was  dark,  and  there  might  be  a  closet. 
He  cast  one  eye  through  the  door  crack  and  beheld  in  the 
dim  light  Link  bending  over  the  inert  figure  on  the  bed 
with  a  cup  and  spoon  in  his  hand.  Perhaps  they  were 
giving  him  more  dope !  If  he  only  could  stop  it  somehow  1 
The  man  was  doped  enough,  sleeping  all  that  time !  But 
now  was  the  time  for  him  and  the  key  to  make  an  exit. 

Slowly,  cautiously  he  backed  away  from  the  door,  down 
the  hall  and  into  the  next  open  door,  groping  his  silent 
way  toward  a  little  half  moon  in  the  shutter.  He  made  a 
quick  calculation,  glanced  about,  did  some  sleight  of  hand 
with  the  door  till  it  swung  noiselessly  shut,  and  then  slip- 
ping back  to  the  window  he  examined  the  catches.  There 
was  a  pane  of  glass  gone,  but  it  was  not  in  the  right  place. 
If  he  only  could  manage  to  slide  the  sash  down.  He 
turned  the  catch  and  applied  a  pressure  to  the  upper  sash, 
but  like  most  upper  sashes  it  would  not  budge.  If  he 
strained  harder  he  might  be  able  to  move  it  but  that  would 
make  a  noise  and  spoil  his  purpose.  He  looked  wildly 
round  the  room,  with  a  feeling  that  something  must  help 
hims  and  suddenly  he  discovered  that  the  upper  sash  of  the 
other  window  was  pulled  all  the  way  down,  and  a  sweet 


108  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

breath  of  ^vild  grape  blossoms  was  being  wafted  to  his 
heated  forehead.  With  a  quick  move  he  placed  himself 
under  this  window,  which  he  realized  must  be  almost  over 
Shorty's  head.  It  was  but  the  work  of  an  instant  to  grasp 
Pat's  gun  and  stick  its  nose  well  through  the  little  half 
moon  of  an  opening  in  the  shutter,  pointed  straight  over 
Shorty's  head  into  the  woods,  and  pull  the  trigger. 

The  report  went  rolling,  reverberating  down  the  valley 
from  hill  to  hill  like  a  whole  barrage  it  seemed  to  Billy; 
and  perhaps  to  Shorty  waiting  for  his  pard  below,  but  at 
any  rate  before  the  echoes  had  ceased  to  roll  Shorty  was 
no  longer  on  the  door  step.  He  had  vanished  and  was  far 
away,  breaking  through  the  underbrush,  stumbling,  and 
cutting  himself,  getting  up  to  stumble  again,  he  hurled 
himself  away  from  that  haunted  spot.  Ghosts  were 
nothing  to  Shorty.  He  could  match  himself  against  a 
spirit  any  day,  but  ghosts  that  could  shoot  were  another 
matter,  and  he  made  good  his  going  without  hesitation 
or  needless  waiting  for  his  partner  in  crime.  He  was  never 
quite  sure  where  that  shot  came  from,  whether  from  high 
heaven  or  down  beneath  the  earth 

As  for  Link,  if  he  was  giving  more  dope,  he  did  not 
finish.  He  dropped  a  cup  in  his  hurry  and  darted  like  a 
winged  thing  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  where  he  took  the 
flight  at  a  slide  and  disappeared  into  the  woods  without 
waiting  for  locks  or  keys  or  any  such  things. 

"He  seems  a  little  nervous,"  grinned  Billy,  who  had 
climbed  to  the  window  seat  with  one  eye  applied  to  the 
half  moon,  watching  his  victims  take  their  hurried  leave. 
And  lest  they  should  dare  to  watch  and  return  before  he 
was  ready  for  them  he  sent  another  shot  into  the  blue 
sky,  ricochetting  along  the  hills;  and  still  another,  grimly, 
after  an  interval. 

Then  swiftly  turning  he  stole  down  the  front  stairs 
and  took  the  key  from  the  lock,  shut  the  door,  pushing  a 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  109 

big  bolt  on  the  inside.  With  a  hasty  examination  of  the 
lower  floor  that  satisfied  him  that  he  was  safely  ensconced 
in  his  stronghold  and  would  not  be  open  to  immediate 
interruption  he  hurried  upstairs  again. 

His  first  act  was  to  open  a  window  and  throw  back  the 
shutters.  The  morning  sunlight  leaped  in  like  a  friend, 
and  a  bird  in  a  tree  carolled  out  gladly.  Something  in 
Billy's  heart  burst  into  a  tear.  A  tear!  Bah!  He  brushed 
it  away  with  his  grimy  hand  and  went  over  to  the  bed, 
rolling  the  inert  figure  toward  him  till  the  face  was  in 
plain  view.  A  sudden  fit  of  trembling  took  possession  of 
him  and  he  dropped  nervelessly  beside  the  bed  with  his 
hands  outstretched  and  uttered  a  sob  ending  in  a 
single  syllable, 

''  Cart! " 

For  there  on  the  bed  still  as  the  dead  lay  Mark  Carter, 
his  beloved  idol,  and  he  had  helped  to  put  him  there! 

Thirty  pieces  of  silver !  And  his  dearest  friend  dead, 
perhaps !  A  Judas !  All  his  life  he  would  be  a  Judas.  He 
knew  now  why  Judas  hanged  himself.  If  Cart  was  dead  he 
would  have  to  hang  himself !  Here  in  this  house  of  death 
he  must  hang  himself,  like  Judas,  poor  fool.  And  he 
would  fling  that  blood  money  back.  Only,  Cart  must  not 
he  dead!  It  would  be  hell  forever  for  Billy  if  Cart  was 
dead.    He  could  not  stand  it! 

Billy  sprang  to  his  feet  with  tears  raining  down  his 
cheeks,  but  his  tired  dirty  face  looked  beautiful  in  its 
anxiety.  He  tore  open  Mark  Carter's  coat  and  vest, 
wrenched  away  collar,  necktie  and  shirt,  and  laid 
his  face  against  the  breast.  It  was  warm!  He  struggled 
closer  and  put  his  ear  to  the  heart.    It  was  beating ! 

He  shook  him  gently  and  called, 

*'Cart!  Cart!  Oh,  Boy!''  with  sobs  choking  in  his 
throat.  And  all  the  while  the  little  bird  was  singing  in 
a  tree  enough  to  split  his  feathered  throat,  and  the  sweet 


110  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

air  full  of  wild  grape  was  rushing  into  the  long  closed 
room  and  driving  out  the  musty  air. 

Billy  laid  Mark  down  gently  on  the  dusty  pillow  and 
opened  another  window.  He  stumbled  over  the  cup  and 
spoon,  and  a  bottle  fell  from  the  table  and  broke  sending 
out  a  pungent  odor.  But  Billy  crept  close  to  his  friend 
once  more  and  began  rubbing  his  hands  and  forehead  and 
crooning  to  him  as  he  had  once  done  to  his  dog  when  he 
suffered  from  a  broken  leg.  Nobody  would  have  known 
Billy  just  then,  as  he  stood  crooning  over  Mark. 

Water!  He  looked  around.  A  broken  pitcher  stood 
on  the  table  half  filled.  He  tasted  it  dubiously.  It  was 
water,  luke  warm,  but  water !  He  soused  a  towel  he  found 
on  the  washstand  into  it  and  slopped  it  over  Mark's  face. 
He  went  through  all  the  manoeuvres  they  use  on  the  foot- 
ball field  when  a  man  is  knocked  out,  and  then  he  be- 
thought him  of  the  milk.  Milk  was  an  antidote  for 
poisons.    If  he  could  get  some  down  him ! 

Carefully  he  rinsed  out  a  glass  he  found  on  the  bureau 
and  poured  some  milk  in  it,  crept  on  the  bed  and  lifted 
Mark's  head  in  his  arms,  put  the  glass  to  his  lips,  and 
begged  and  pled,  and  finally  succeeded  in  prying  the  lips 
and  getting  a  few  drops  down.  Such  joy  as  thrilled  him 
when  Mark  finally  swallowed.  But  it  was  a  long  time, 
and  Billy  began  to  think  he  must  go  for  the  doctor,  leave 
his  friend  here  at  the  mercy  of  who  would  come  and  go 
after  all.  He  had  hoped  he  might  keep  his  shame,  and 
Mark's  capture  from  everybody,  but  what  was  that  verse 
the  teacher  had  taught  them  once  awhile  ago?  "  Be  sure 
your  sin  will  find  you  out."  That  was  true.  He  couldn't 
let  Mark  die.  He  must  go  for  the  doctor.  Doc  would 
come,  and  he  would  keep  his  mouth  shut,  but  Doc  would 
know,  and  Billy  liked  Doc.  Wdl,  he  would  have  to  get 
him !    Mark  would  hate  it  so,  too,  but  Billy  would  have  to ! 

It  was  just  then  that  Mark  drew  a  long  deep  breath  of 


THE  CITY  OP  FIRE  111 

the  sweet  air,  sighed  and  drew  another.  Billy  pressed  the 
glass  to  his  lips  and  Mark  opened  his  eyes,  saw  the  boy, 
smiled,  and  said  in  a  weak  voice : 

"Hullo,  Billy,  old  boy,  got  knocked  out,  didn't  I?" 
Then  he  closed  his  eyes  and  seemed  to  go  away  again. 
But  Billy,  with  wildly  beating  heart  poured  some  more 
milk  and  came  closer : 

"  Drink  this.  Cart.  It's  good.  Drink  it.  We  gotta 
get  them  dirty  bums.  Cart !    Hurry  up  an'  drink  it !  " 

Billy  understood  his  friend.  Mark  opened  his  eyes 
and  roused  a  little.  Presently  he  drank  some  more,  nearly 
a  whole  glass  full  and  Billy  took  heart  of  hope. 

"  Do  ya  think  ya  could  get  up  now.  Cart,  ef  I  he'ped 
ya?  "  he  asked  anxiously,  "We  gotta  get  after  those 
guys  ur  they'll  make  a  getaway." 

"  Sure !  "  said  Mark  rousing  again.  "  Go  to  it.  Kid. 
I'm  with  you,"  and  he  tried  to  sit  up.  But  his  head  reeled 
and  he  fell  back.  Billy's  heart  sank.  He  must  get  him 
out  of  this  house  before  the  two  keepers  returned,  perhaps 
with  Pat  or  some  other  partner  in  their  crime.  Patiently 
he  began  again,  and  gradually  by  degrees  he  propped 
Mark  up,  fed  him  more  milk,  and  urged  him  to  rise ;  fairly 
lifted  him  with  his  loving  strength,  across  the  room,  and 
finally,  inch  by  inch  down  the  stairs  and  out  the  back  door. 

Billy  felt  a  great  thrill  when  he  heard  that  door  shut 
behind  him  and  knew  his  friend  was  out  in  the  open  again 
under  God's  sky.  Nothing  ever  quite  discouraged  Billy 
when  he  was  out  of  doors.  But  it  was  a  work  of  time 
to  get  Mark  across  the  clearing  and  down  in  the  under- 
growth out  of  sight  of  the  house,  where  the  old  bicycle 
lay.  Once  there  Billy  felt  like  holding  a  Thanksgiving 
service.  But  Mark  was  very  white  and  lay  back  on  the 
grass  looking  wholly  unlike  himself. 

"  Say,    Cart,"    said   Billy   after   a   brief    silence    of 


112  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

thought,  "  I  gotta  get  you  on  my  machine.    We  gotta  get 
down  to  Unity  an*  phone." 

"  All  right,  old  man,  just  as  you  say,"  murmured 
Mark  too  dizzy  to  care. 

So  Billy  with  infinite  tenderness,  and  much  straining 
of  his  young  muscles  got  Mark  up  and  managed  to  put  him 
astride  the  wheel;  but  it  was  tough  going  and  slow,  over 
rough  places,  among  undergrowth,  and  sometimes  Billy 
had  to  stop  for  breath  as  he  walked  and  pushed  and  held 
his  friend. 

But  Mark  was  coming  to  his  own  again,  and  by  the 
time  they  reached  a  road  he  was  able  to  keep  his  balance, 
and  know  what  he  was  doing.  It  was  high  noon  before 
they  reached  Unity  and  betook  themselves  to  the  drug 
store.  While  Mark  asked  for  medicine  Billy  hied  him  to 
a  telephone  booth.  His  heart  was  beating  wildly.  He 
feared  him  much  that  Mark's  car  was  gone. 

But  the  chief's  voice  answered  him  after  a  little  wait- 
ing, and  he  explained : 

"  Say,  I'm  the  kid  that  phoned  you  early  this  morning. 
Didya  get  that  car  aw'right?  "  Billy  held  his  breath,  his 
jaded  eyes  dropped  shut  with  anxiety  and  weariness.  But 
the  chief's  voice  answered  promptly,  "  yes,  we  got  yer  car 
all  right,  but  didn't  get  the  men.  They  beat  it  when  they 
heard  us  coming.  What  sort  of  men  were  they,  do 
you  know  ?  " 

"  Aw,  that's  aw'right.  Chief,  I'll  tell  ya  when  I  gi'down 
there.  Can't  tell  ya  over  the  phone.  Say,  I'm  Billy,  Billy 
Gaston.  You  know  me.  Over  to  Sab'th  Valley.  Yes. 
You  seen  me  play  on  the  team.  Sure.  Well,  say  Chief, 
I'm  here  in  Unity  with  the  guy  that  owns  the  car.  Mark 
Carter.  You  know  him.  Sure !  Mark !  Well,  he's  all  in, 
an'  he  wants  his  car  to  get  home.  He's  been  up  all  night; 
and  he  ain't  fit  to  walk.  He  wants  me  to  come  over  andj 
bring  his  car  back  to  Unity  fer  him.    I  got  my  bike  here,] 


THE  CITY  OF  FIEE  113 

See  ?  Now,  I  ain't  got  a  license  of  course,  but  I  c'd  bring 
his  along.  That  be  aw'right  Chief,  just  over  to  Unity? 
Aw'right,  Chief?  Thank  ya.  Chief.  Yas,  I'm  comin' 
right  away.     S'long !  " 

Billy  saw  Mark  comfortably  resting  on  a  couch  in  the 
back  room  of  the  drug  store,  where  an  old  pal  of  his  was 
clerk,  and  then  stopping  only  for  an  invigorating  gulp  or 
two  of  a  chocolate  ice  cream  soda,  he  climbed  on  his  old 
wheel  and  pedalled  on  his  happy  way  to  Economy.  The 
winds  touched  him  pleasantly  as  he  passed,  the  sunshine 
had  a  queer  reddish  look  to  his  feverish  eyes,  and  the 
birds  seemed  to  be  singing  in  the  top  of  his  head,  but  he 
was  happy.  He  might  go  to  sleep  on  the  way  and  roll  off 
his  wheel,  but  he  should  worry!  Mark  was  safe.  He 
had  almost  sold  him  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  but  God 
had  somehow  been  good  to  him  and  Mark  was  alive.  Now 
he  would  serve  him  all  the  rest  of  his  life, — Mark  or 
God, — it  seemed  all  one  to  him  now  somehow,  so  long 
had  he  idealized  his  friend,  so  mixed  were  his  ideas 
of  theology. 

But  Billy  did  not  go  to  sleep  nor  fall  off  his  wheel,  and 
in  due  time  he  arrived  in  Economy  and  satisfied  the  Chief's 
curiosity  with  vague  answers,  a  vivid  description  of  Link 
and  Shorty,  and  the  suggestion  that  they  might  be  found 
somewhere  near  the  Haunted  House  on  Stark's  mountain. 
He  had  heard  them  talking  about  going  there,  he  said. 
He  got  away  without  a  mention  of  the  real  happening  at 
Pleasant  View  or  a  hint  that  he  had  had  anything  to  do 
with  the  stealing  of  the  car.  Billy  somehow  was  gifted 
that  way.  He  could  shut  his  mouth  always  just  in  time, 
and  grin  and  give  a  turn  to  the  subject  that  entirely 
changed  the  current  of  thought,  so  he  kept  his  own  coun- 
sel. Not  for  his  own  protection  would  he  have  kept  back 
any  necessary  information,  but  for  Mark's  sake.  Yes — 
for  Mark's  sake — !    Mark  would  not  want  it  to  be  known. 


I 


114  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

It  was  in  the  early  evening,  and  the  sky  was  still 
touched  by  the  after  glow  of  sunset,  beneath  the  evening 
star,  as  Mark  and  Billy  in  the  reclaimed  car,  finally  started 
from  Unity  for  home. 

In  both  their  "hearts  was  the  thought  of  the  bells  that 
would  be  ringing  now  in  Sabbath  Valley  for  the  evening 
service,  and  of  the  one  who  would  be  playing  them,  and 
each  was  trying  to  frame  some  excuse  that  would  explain 
his  absence  to  her  without  really  explaining  anything. 

And  about  this  time  the  minister  came  forth  from  the 
parsonage,  much  vexed  in  spirit  by  the  appearance  of  the 
outlandish  lady  in  her  outlandish  car.  She  seemed  to  be 
insisting  on  remaining  at  the  parsonage  as  if  it  were  a 
common  hostelry,  and  he  and  his  wife  had  much  per- 
plexity to  know  just  what  to  do.  And  now  as  he  issued 
quietly  forth  from  a  side  door  he  could  hear  her  lute-like 
voice  laughing  from  his  front  porch,  and  looking  back 
furtively  he  saw  to  his  horror  that  the  lady,  as  well  as  the 
gentleman,  was  smoking  a  cigarette ! 

He  paused  and  tried  to  think  just  what  would  be  the 
best  way  to  meet  this  situation,  and  while  he  hesitated  his 
senior  elder,  a  man  of  narrow  vision,  hard  judgments,  yet 
staunch  sincerity,  approached  him.  The  minister  had, 
grown  to  expect  something  unpleasant  whenever  this  man 
sought  him  out,  and  to-night  he  shrank  from  the  ordeal; 
but  anything  was  better  than  to  have  him  see  the  visitor 
upon  his  front  steps,  so  Severn  turned  and  hurried  toward 
him  cordially : 

"  Good  evening,  Harricutt.  It's  been  a  good  day, 
hasn't  it?  '*  he  said  grasping  the  wiry  old  hand: 

"  Not  so  pleasant  as  you'd  think,  Mr.  Severn,"  re- 
sponded the  hard  old  voice  harshly,  "  IVe  come  on  very 
unpleasant  business.  Very  unpleasant  indeed;  but  the 
standard  of  the  church  must  be  kept  up,  and  we  must  act 
at  once  in  this  matter !  It  is  most  serious,  most  serious !  IV 


i 


r 


THE  CITY  OF  FIEE  115 


just  called  a  meeting  of  the  session  to  be  held  after  church, 
and  I've  sent  out  for  this  Mark  Carter  to  be  present. 
He  must  answer  for  himself  the  things  that  are  being  said 
about  him,  or  his  name  must  be  stricken  from  our  church 
roll.  Do  you  know  what  they  are  saying  about  him, 
Brother  Severn  ?    Do  you  know  what  he's  done  ?  " 

But  the  arrow  had  entered  the  soul  of  the  minister  and 
his  voice  was  too  unsteady  to  respond,  so  the  senior 
elder  proceeded: 

"  He  has  been  keeping  company  with  a  young  woman 
of  dissolute  character,  and  he  has  been  to  a  place  of 
public  amusement  with  her  and  been  seen  drinking 
with  her.  He  affects  dance  halls,  and  is  known  to 
live  a  worldly  life.  It  is  time  he  was  cast  out  from  our 
midst  and  become  anathema.  And  now,  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible he  may  be  tried  for  murder  1  Have  you  heard  what 
happened  last  night,  Mr.  Severn?  Did  you  know  that 
Mark  Carter,  a  member  of  our  church,  tried  to  kill  a  man 
down  at  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern,  and  for  jealousy  about  a 
girl  of  loose  character  ?  And  now.  Brother  Severn,  what 
are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ?  " 

Said  the  minister,  answering  quietly,  calmly : 

"  Brother  Harricutt,  we  are  not  going  to  do  anything 
about  it  just  now.  We  are  going  into  the  church  to  wor- 
ship God.  We  will  wait  at  least  until  Mark  Carter  comes 
back  and  see  what  he  has  to  say  for  himself." 

And  about  that  minute,  Mark,  now  thoroughly  re- 
stored and  driving  steadily  along  the  road,  turned  to  Billy 
tnd  «iid  quietly  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye : 

^  Kid,  what  made  you  put  up  that  Detour  ?  " 


X 


The  service  that  evening  had  been  one  of  peculiar 
tenderness.  The  minister  prayed  so  earnestly  for  the 
graces  of  forgiveness,  loving  kindness  and  tender  mercy, 
that  several  in  the  congregation  began  to  wonder  who 
had  been  hard  on  his  neighbor  now.  It  was  almost  un- 
canny sometimes  how  that  minister  spotted  out  the  faults 
and  petty  differences  in  his  flock.  Many  examined  their 
own  hearts  fearfully  during  the  prayer,  but  at  its  close 
the  face  of  the  senior  Elder  was  stern  and  severe  as  ever 
as  he  lifted  his  hymn  book  and  began  to  turn  the  leaves 
to  the  place. 

Then  the  organ  mellowed  forth  joyously: 

"Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears, 
Trust  and  be  undismayed, 
God  hears  thy  prayers  and  counts  thy  tears 
God  shall  lift  up  thy  head." 

Elder  Harricutt  would  much  rather  it  had  been  "  God 
the  All  Terrible."  His  lips  were  pursed  for  battle.  He 
knew  the  minister  was  going  to  be  soft  hearted  again,  and 
it  would  fall  to  his  lot  to  uphold  the  spotless  righteousness 
of  the  church.  That  had  been  his  attitude  ever  since  he 
became  a  Christian.  He  had  always  been  trying  to  find  a 
flaw  in  Mr.  Severn's  theology,  but  much  to  his  astonish- 
ment and  perhaps  disappointment,  he  had  never  yet  been 
able  to  find  a  point  on  which  they  disagreed  theologically, 
when  it  came  right  down  to  old  fashioned  religion,  but 
he  was  always  expecting  that  the  next  sermon  would  be  the 
one  wherein  the  minister  had  broken  loose  from  the  old 
dyed-in-the-wool  creeds  and  joined  himself  to  the  new 
and  advanced  thinkers,  than  whom,  in  his  opinion,  there 
were  no  lower  on  the  face  of  God's  earth.    And  yet  in 

116 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  117 


spite  of  it  all  he  loved  the  minister,  and  was  his  strong 
admirer  and  loyal  adherent,  self-appointed  mentor 
though  he  felt  himself  to  be. 

Over  on  the  other  side  of  the  churcH  Elder  Dun- 
cannon,  tall,  gaunt,  hairy,  with  kind  gray  eyes  and  a 
large  mouth,  reminding  slightly  of  Abraham  Lincoln, 
sang  earnestly,  through  steel  bowed  spectacles  adjusted 
far  out  on  the  end  of  his  nose.  Behind  him  Lemuel 
Tipton,  also  an  elder,  sandy,  with  cherry  lips,  apple 
cheeks  and  a  fringe  of  grizzled  red  hair  under  his  chin,  sang 
with  his  head  thrown  back,  looking  like  a  big  robin. 
The  minister  knew  he  could  depend  on  those  two.  He 
scanned  his  audience.  The  elders  were  all  present. 
Gibson.  He  had  a  narrow  forehead,  near-sighted  eyes, 
and  an  inclination  to  take  the  opposite  side  from  the 
minister.  His  lips  were  thin,  and  he  pursed  them  often, 
and  believed  in  efficiency  and  discipline.  He  would  un- 
doubtedly go  with  Harricutt.  Jones,  the  short  fat  one 
who  owned  the  plush  mills  and  hated  boys.  He  had  taken 
sides  against  Mark  about  the  memorial  window.  No 
hope  from  him!  Fowler,  small,  thin,  gray,  with  a  re- 
treating chin,  had  once  lived  next  to  Mrs  Carter  and  had 
a  difference  about  some  hens  that  strayed  away  to  lay. 
Harricutt  likely  had  him  all  primed.  Jones,  Gibson, 
Harricutt — ^three  against  three.  Joyce's  vote  would 
decide  it.  Joyce  was  a  new  man,  owner  of  the  canneries. 
He  was  a  great  stickler  for  proprieties,  yet  he  seemed  to 
feel  that  a  minister's  word  was  law — ^Well — !  God  was 
still  above — ! 

The  benediction  held  a  tenderness  that  fairly  com- 
pelled the  waiting  congregation  to  attend  with  their  hearts. 


"  Let's  go  over  there  and  hear  that  girl  play,"  sug- 
gested Laurie  suddenly,  "  Church  is  out  and  we'll  make 


118  THE  CITY  OF  FIEE 

her  play  the  bells.  They're  simply  great.  She's 
some  player! " 

Opal  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  regarded  him 
through  the  fringes  of  her  eyelashes,  laughing  a  silvery 
peal  that  shivered  into  the  reverence  of  the  benediction 
like  a  shower  of  icicles  going  down  the  back.  Marilyn 
heard  and  blended  the  Amen  into  the  full  organ  to  break 
the  shock  as  the  startled  congregation  moved  restlessly, 
with  half  unclosed  eyes.  Elder  Harricutt  heard,  shut 
his  eyes  tighter,  and  pressed  severe  lips  together  with 
resistance.  This  doubtless  was  that  woman  they  called 
Cherry.  That  irreverent  Mark  Carter  must  be  close  at 
hand.  And  on  the  rose-vined  porch  Laurence  Shafton 
felt  the  sting  of  the  laugh  and  drew  himself  together: 

"  Oh,  Laurie,  Laurie !  "  she  mocked,  "  You  might  as 
well  be  dead  at  Saybrook  Inn  or  imprisoned  for  killing  a 
family  as  fall  in  love  with  that  girl.  She  isn't  at  all  your 
kind.  How  would  you  look  singing  psalms?  But  come 
on,  Tm  game!  I  can  see  how  she'll  hate  me.  Can 
you  walk  ?  " 

They  sauntered  slowly  over  to  the  church  in  the 
fragrant  darkness,  he  leaning  on  a  cane  he  had  found  by 
the  door.  The  kindly,  curious  people  coming  out  eyed 
them  interestedly,  looking  toward  the  two  cars  in  front  of 
the  parsonage,  and  wondered.  It  was  a  neighborhood 
where  everybody  took  a  kindly  interest  in  everybody  else, 
and  the  minister  belonged  to  them  all.  Nothing  went  on 
at  his  house  that  they  did  not  just  love  and  dote  on. 

"  Seems  to  me  that  girl  has  an  awful  low-necked  dress 
for  Sunday  night,"  said  Mrs.  Little  to  Mrs.  Jones  as 
they  walked  slowly  down  the  street,  "  Did  you  catch  the 
flash  of  those  diamonds  on  her  neck  and  fingers?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Jones  contemptuously,  "paint  on 
her  face  too,  thick  as  pie  crust.  I  saw  her  come.  She 
drove  her  own  car  and  her  dresses  were  up  to  her  knees, 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  119 

and  such  stockings !  With  stripes  like  lace  in  them !  And 
little  slippers  with  heels  like  knitting  needles !  I  declare,  I 
don't  know  what  this  generation  is  coming  to !  I'm  glad 
my  Nancy  never  wanted  to  go  away  to  boarding 
school.  They  say  it's  terrible,  the  boldness  of  young 
girls  nowadays." 

"  Well,  if  you'd  ask  me,  Fd  say  she  wasn't  so  very 
young!''  declared  Mrs.  Little.  "The  light  from  the 
church  door  was  full  in  her  face  when  I  was  coming  down 
the  steps,  and  she  looked  as  if  she'd  cut  her  eye  teeth 
sometime  past." 

"She  had  short  hair,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  "  for  she  pulled 
off  her  hat  and  ran  her  fingers  through  it  just  like  a  boy. 
I  was  cutting  bread  at  the  pantry  window  when  she  drove 
up  and  I  couldn't   help  seeing  her." 

"  Oh,  when  my  sister  was  up  in  New  York  this  spring 
she  said  she  saw  several  old  gray-haired  women  with  bob- 
bed hair.  She  said  it  was  something  terrible  to  see  how 
the  world  had  run  to  foolishness." 

"Well,  I  don'no  as  it's  wicked  to  bob  your  hair," 
said  Mrs.  Jones.  "  I  suppose  it  does  save  some  time 
taking  care  of  it  if  you  have  curly  hair,  and  it  looks  good 
on  you,  but  mercy !  It  attracts  so  much  attention.  Well, 
I'm  glad  we  don't  live  in  New  York!  I  declare,  every 
time  I  come  to  church  and  hear  Mr.  Severn  preach  I  just 
want  to  thank  God  that  my  lines  are  cast  in  Sabbath 
Valley.  But  speaking  of  going  to  boarding  school,  it 
didn't  hurt  Marilyn  Severn  to  go.  She's  just  as  sweet 
and  unspoiled  as  when  she  went  away.'* 

"  Oh,  her!  You  couldn't  spoil  her.  She's  all  spirit. 
She's  got  both  her  father's  and  mother's  souls  mixed  up 
in  her  and  you  couldn't  get  a  better  combination.  I 
declare  I  often  wonder  the  devil  lets  two  such  good  people 
live.  I  suppose  he  doesn't  mind  as  long's  he  can  confine 
'em  to  a  little  place  among  the  hills.     But  my  soul!    If 


120  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

those  two  visitors  didn't  need  a  sermon  to-night  I  never 
saw  folks  that  did.  Do  you  know,  when  that  man  came 
last  night  in  a  broken  down  car  he  swore  so  he  woke  us  all 
up,  all  around  the  neighborhood.  If  it  had  been  anybody- 
else  in  town  but  Mr.  Severn  he'd  been  driven  out  or  tarred 
and  feathered.  Well,  good-night.  I  guess  you  aren't 
afraid  to  walk  the  rest  of  the  way  alone." 

Back  in  the  church  Marilyn  had  lingered  at  the  organ, 
partly  because  she  dreaded  going  back  to  the  house  while 
the  two  strangers  were  there,  partly  because  it  was  only  at 
the  organ  that  she  could  seem  to  let  her  soul  give  voice  to 
the  cry  of  its  longing.  All  day  she  had  prayed  while  going 
quietly  about  her  Sabbath  duties.  All  day  she  steadily  held 
herself  to  the  tasks  that  were  usually  her  joy  and  delight, 
though  sometimes  it  seemed  that  she  could  not  go  on  with 
them.  Billy  and  Mark !  Where  were  they?  What  had  their 
absence  to  do  with  one  another?  Somehow  it  comforted 
her  a  little  to  think  of  them  both  away,  and  then  again 
it  disquieted  her.  Perhaps,  oh,  perhaps  Mark  had  really 
changed  as  people  said  he  had.  Perhaps  he  had  taken 
Billy  to  a  baseball  game  somewhere.  In  New  York  or 
many  other  places  that  would  not  seem  an  unusual  thing, 
she  knew,  not  so  much  out  of  the  way.  Even  church 
members  were  lenient  about  these  things  in  the  great 
world.  It  would  not  be  strange  if  Mark  had  grown  lax. 
But  here  in  Sabbath  Valley  public  opinion  on  the  keeping 
of  the  Sabbath  day  was  so  strong  that  it  meant  a  great 
deal.  It  amounted  to  public  disgrace  to  disregard  the 
ordinary  rules  of  Sabbath ;  for  in  Sabbath  Valley  working 
and  playing  were  alike  laid  aside  for  the  entire  twenty- 
four  hours,  the  housewives  prepared  their  dinner  the  day 
before,  an  unusually  good  one  always,  with  some  delec- 
table dessert  that  would  keep  on  ice,  and  everything  as  in 
the  olden  time  was  prepared  in  the  home  for  a  real  keep- 
ing of  a  day  of  rest  and  enjoyment  of  the  Lord.     Even 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  lU 

the  children  had  special  pasttimes  that  belonged  to  that 
day  only,  and  Marilyn  Severn  still  cherished  a  box  of 
wonderful  stone  blocks  that  had  been  her  most  precious 
possessions  as  a  child,  and  had  been  used  for  Sabbath 
amusement.  With  these  blocks  she  built  temples,  laid 
out  cities,  went  through  mimic  battles  of  the  Bible  until 
every  story  lived  as  real  as  if  she  had  been  there.  There 
were  three  tiny  blocks,  one  a  quarter  of  a  cube  which  she 
always  called  Saul,  and  two  half  the  size  that  were  David 
and  Jonathan.  So  vivid  and  so  happy  were  those  Sunday 
afternoons  with  mother  and  father  and  the  blocks.  Sab- 
bath devoted  to  the  pursuance  of  heavenly  things  had 
meant  real  joy  to  Marilyn.  The  calm  and  quiet  of  it  were 
delight.  It  had  been  the  hardest  thing  about  her  years  in 
the  world  that  there  seemed  to  be  so  little  Sabbath  there. 
Only  by  going  to  her  own  room  and  fencing  herself  away 
from  her  friends,  could  she  get  any  semblance  of  what 
had  been  so  dear  to  her,  that  feeling  of  leisure  to  talk  and 
think  about  Christ,  her  dearest  friend.  I  grant  she  was  an 
unusual  girl.  There  is  now  and  then  an  unusual  girl.  We 
do  not  always  hear  about  them.  They  are  not  always  beau- 
tiful nor  gifted.  It  chanced  that  Marilyn  was  all  three. 

So  she  sat  and  played  at  her  dear  organ,  played  sweet 
and  tender  hymns.  Played  gentle,  pleading,  throbbing 
themes  that  almost  spoke  their  words  out,  as  she  saw  Elder 
Harricutt  leading  his  file  of  elders  into  the  session  room 
which  was  just  behind  the  organ.  She  knew  that  in  all 
probability  there  was  to  be  a  time  of  trial  for  her  father, 
and  that  some  poor  soul  would  be  mauled  over  and  ground 
up  in  the  mill  of  criticism,  or  else  some  of  her  father's 
dearest  plans  were  to  be  held  up  for  an  unsympathetic  dis- 
cussion. She  thanked  God  for  the  strong  homely  face  of 
Elder  Duncannon  as  he  stalked  behind  the  rest  with  a  look 
of  uplift  on  his  worn  countenance,  and  she  played 
on  softly  through  another  hymn,  until  suddenly  somehow; 


m  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE^ 

she  became  aware  that  the  two  strangers  on  the  parsonage 
porch  had  left  their  rockers  and  were  coming  slowly  across 
the  lawn.  The  woman's  hard  silvery  laugh  rang  out  and 
jabbed  into  the  tender  hymn  she  was  playing,  and  she 
stopped  short  in  the  middle  of  a  phrase,  as  if  the  poor 
thing  had  been  killed  instantly.  The  organ  seemed  to  hold 
its  breath,  and  the  sudden  silence  almost  made  the  little 
church  tremble. 

She  sat  tense,  listening,  her  fingers  spread  toward  the 
stops  to  push  them  in  and  close  the  organ  and  be  gone 
before  they  arrived  if  they  contemplated  coming  in,  for 
she  had  no  mind  to  talk  to  them  just  now.  Then  coldly, 
harshly  out  from  the  cessation  of  great  sound  came  Elder 
Harricutt's  voice : 

But  Brother  Severn,  supposing  that  it  turns  out  that 
Mark  Carter  is  a  murderer!  You  surely  would  not  ap- 
prove of  keeping  his  name  on  the  church  roll  then,  would 
you?  It  seems  to  me  that  in  order  to  keep  the  garments 
of  the  bride  of  Christ  clean  from  soil  we  should  anticipate 
such  a  happening  and  show  the  world  that  we  recognize 
the  character  of  this  young  man,  and  that  we  do  not  coun- 
tenance such  doings  as  she  has  been  guilty  of.  Now,  last 
night,  it  is  positively  stated  that  he  and  this  person  they 
call  Cherry  Fenning  were  at  the  Blue  Duck — !  " 

Crash!   The  bells! 

Lynn  had  heard  so  much  through  the  open  session- 
room  door,  had  turned  a  quick  frightened  glance  and 
caught  the  glimpse  of  two  people  coming  slowly  in  at 
the  open  door  of  the  church  peering  at  her,  had  made  one 
quick  motion  which  released  the  bells,  and  dashed  into  the 
first  notes  that  came  to  her  mind,  the  old  hymn,  "  Rock 
of  Ages,  Cleft  for  Me,  Let  Me  Hide  Myself  in  Thee! " 
But  instead  of  playing  it  tenderly,  grandly,  as  she  usually 
did,  with  all  the  sweetness  of  the  years  in  which  saints  and 
sinners  have  sung  it  and  found  refuge  and  comfort  in 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  H3 

its  noble  lines,  she  plunged  into  it  with  a  mad  rush  as  if 
a  soul  in  mortal  peril  were  rushing  to  the  Refuge  before 
the  gates  should  be  forever  closed,  or  before  the  enemy- 
should  snatch  it  from  the  haven.  The  first  note  boomed 
forth  so  sharply,  so  suddenly,  that  Elder  Harricutt  jumped 
visibly  from  his  chair,  and  his  gossipy  little  details  were 
drowned  in  the  great  tone  that  struck.  Behind  his  hand, 
the  troubled  minister  smiled  in  spite  of  his  worries,  to 
think  of  the  brave  young  soul  behind  those  bells  defending 
her  own. 

Down  the  aisle  just  under  the  tower  Opal  Verrons 
paused  for  an  instant  startled,  thinking  of  prison  walls, 
and  of  the  dead  man  lying  at  Saybrook  Inn  that  night. 
Suddenly  the  words  of  the  telegram  flashed  across  her: 
**  What  disposition  do  you  want  made  of  the  body  ?  ''  The 
body!  The  body!  Oh!  Her  eyes  grew  wide  with  horror. 
She  ought  to  answer  that  telegram  and  give  them  his 
home  address.  But  why  should  she  ?  What  had  she  to  do 
y/^ith  him  now?  Dead.  He  was  Dead.  He  had  passed 
to  another  world.  She  shuddered.  She  looked  around 
and  shrank  back  toward  Shafton,  but  Laurie  was  wrapt  in 
the  vision  of  Saint  Cecilia  seated  at  the  organ  under  the 
single  electric  light  that  the  janitor  had  left  burning  over 
her  head.  She  resembled  a  saint  with  a  halo  more  than 
ever,  and  his  easily  excited  senses  were  off  chasing  this 
new  flower  of  fancy. 

Behind  the  organ  pipes  the  session  sat  with  the  repu- 
tation of  a  man  in  their  ruthless  fingers,  tossing  it  back 
and  forth,  and  deliberating  upon  their  own  damning 
phrases,  while  the  minister  sat  with  stern  white  face,  and 
sought  to  hold  them  from  taking  an  action  that  might 
brand  a  human  soul  forever.  Marilyn  needed  no  more 
than  those  harsh  words  to  know  that  her  friend  of  the 
years  was  being  weighed  in  the  balance. 

Many  a  Sabbath  afternoon  in  his  childhood  had  Mark 


124  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Carter  spent  with  her  playing  the  stone  block  play  of 
David  and  Jonathan,  and  then  eaten  bread  and  milk  and 
apple  sauce  and  sponge  cake  with  her  and  heard  the  evening 
prayers   and  songs   and   said  good-night   with   a   sweet 
look  of  the  Heavenly  Father's  child  on  his  handsome  little 
face.     Many  a  time  as  an  older  boy  had  he  sung  hymns 
with  her  and  listened  to  her  read  the  Bible,  and  talked  it 
over  with  her  afterward.    He  had  not  been  like  that  when 
she  went  away.    Could  he  so  have  changed  ?    And  Cherry 
Penning!     The  little  girl  who  had  been  but  ten  years 
old  when  she  went  away  to  college,  Cherry  a  precocious 
little  daughter  of  a  tailor  in  Economy,  who  came  over  to 
take  music  lessons  from  her.     Cherry  at  the  Blue  Duck! 
And  with  Mark !  Could  it  be  true  ?   It  could  not  be  true ! 
Not  in  the  sense  that  Mr.  Harricutt  was  trying  to  make 
out.    Mark  might  have  been  there,  but  never  to  do  wrong. 
The  Blue  Duck  was  a  dance  hall  where  liquor  was  sold  on 
the  quiet,  and  where  unspeakable  things  happened  every 
little  while.     Oh,  it  was  outrageous!     Her  fingers  made 
the  bells  crash  out  her  horror  and  disgust,  and  her  appeal 
to  a  higher  power  to  right  this  dreadful  wrong.    And  then 
a  hopeless  sick  feeling  came  over  her,  a  whirling  dizzy 
sensation  as  if  she  were  going  to  faint,  although  she  never 
fainted.   She  longed  to  drop  down  upon  the  keys  and  wail 
her  heart  out,  but  she  might  not.    Those  awful  words  or 
more  like  them  were  going  on  behind  the  organ  there,  and 
the  door  was  open — or  even  if  the  door  was  not  open  they 
could  be  heard,  for  the  room  behind  the  organ  was  only 
screened  by  a  heavy  curtain !    Those  two  strangers  must 
not  hear !    At  all  costs  they  must  not  hear  a  thing  like  this ! 
They  did  not  know  Mark  Carter  of  course,  but  at  any 
rate  they  must  not  hear !   It  was  like  having  him  exposed 
in  the  public  square  for  insult.    So  she  played  on,  growing 
steadier,  and  more  controlled.  If  only  she  could  know  the 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  125 

rest !  Or  if  only  she  might  steal  away  then,  and  lie  down 
and  bear  it  alone  for  a  little !  So  this  was  what  had  given 
her  father  such  a  white  drawn  look  during  his  sermon! 
She  had  seen  that  hard  old  man  go  across  the  lawn  to  meet 
him,  and  this  was  what  he  was  bringing  her  father 
to  bear! 

But  the  music  itself  and  the  words  of  the  grand  old 
hymns  she  was  playing  gradually  crept  into  her  soul  and 
helped  her,  so  that  when  the  lame  stranger  made  at  last  his 
slow  progress  up  to  the  choir  loft  and  stood  beside  her  she 
was  able  to  be  coolly  polite  and  explain  briefly  to  him  how 
the  organ  controlled  the  action  of  the  bells. 

He  listened  to  her,  standing  in  open  admiration,  his 
handsome  careless  face  with  its  unmistakable  look  of  self 
indulgence  was  lighted  up  with  genuine  admiration  for  the 
beautiful  girl  who  could  play  so  well,  and  could  talk 
equally  well  about  her  instrument,  quite  as  if  it  were 
nothing  at  all  out  of  the  ordinary  run  of  things  that  she 
were  doing. 

Opal,  sitting  in  the  front  pew,  where  she  had  dropped 
to  wait  till  her  escort  should  be  satisfied,  watched  him  at 
first  discontentedly,  turning  her  eyes  to  the  girl,  half 
wondering,  half  sneering,  till  all  at  once  she  percieved  that 
the  girl  was  not  hearing  the  hot  words  of  admiration 
poured  upon  her,  was  not  impressed  in  the  least  by  the  man, 
did  not  even  seem  to  know  who  he  was — or  care.  How 
strange.  What  a  very  strange  girl !  And  really  a  beauti- 
ful girl,  too,  she  saw,  now  that  her  natural  jealousy  was 
for  the  moment  averted.  How  extremely  amusing. 
Laurie  Shaft  on  interested  in  a  girl  who  didn't  care  a  row 
of  pins  about  him.  What  a  shouting  joke!  She  must 
take  it  back  to  his  friends  at  the  shore,  who  would  kid  him 
unmercifully  about  it.  The  thing  had  never  been  known 
in  his  Hfe  before.    Perhaps,  too,  she  would  amuse  herself 


126  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

a  little,  just  as  a  pastime,  by  opening  the  eyes  of  this 
village  maiden  to  the  opportunity  she  was  missing?  Why 
not?  Just  on  the  verge  of  his  departure  perhaps. 

And  now,  with  tender  touch,  the  music  grew  softer 
and  dropped  into  the  sorrowful  melody: 

"The  mistakes  of  my  life  have  been  many, 

The  sins  of  my  heart  have  been  more. 
But  I  come  as  He  has  bidden. 

And  enter  the  open  door. 
I  know  I  am  weak  and  sinful, 

It  comes  to  me  more  and  more 
But  since  the  dear  Saviour  has  bid  me  come  in 

I'll  enter  the  open  door." 

It  was  one  of  the  songs  they  used  to  sing  together, 
Mark  and  she,  on  Sunday  afternoons  just  as  the  sun  was 
dropping  behind  the  western  mountain,  and  Marilyn 
played  it  till  the  bells  seemed  to  echo  out  a  heart's  re- 
pentance, and  a  great  forgiveness  to  one  far,  far  away. 

At  its  first  note  the  song  was  recognized  by  Mark 
Carter  as  he  drove  along  through  the  night  and  it  thrilled 
him  to  his  sad  sick  soul.  It  was  as  if  she  had  spoken  to 
him,  had  swept  his  heart  strings  with  her  white  fingers, 
had  given  him  her  sweet  wistful  smile,  and  was  calling  to 
him  through  the  dark.  As  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
church  Billy  pulled  his  cap  a  little  lower  and  tried  to  keep 
the  choke  out  of  his  throat.  Somehow  the  long  hours 
without  sleep  or  food,  the  toil,  the  anxiety,  the  reaction, 
had  suddenly  culminated  in  a  great  desire  to  cry.  Yes, 
cry  just  like  a  baby!  Why,  even  when  he  was  a  baby  he 
^didn't  cry,  and  now  here  was  this  sickening  gag  in  his 
throat,  this  smarting  in  his  eyelids,  this  sinking  feeling. 
He  cast  an  eye  at  Cart.  Why,  Cart  looked  that  way  too. 
Cart  was  feeling  it  also.  Then  he  wasn't  ashamed.  He 
gulped  and  smudged  his  dirty  hand  across  his  smarting 
eyes,  and  got  a  long  streak  of  wet  on  the  back  of  his  hand 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  1«7 

which  he  hastily  dried  on  the  side  of  his  sweater,  and  so 
they  sat,  two  still  dark  figures  travelling  along  quietly 
through  the  night,  for  Carter  had  shut  off  the  engine  and 
let  the  natural  incline  of  the  road  carry  them  down  almost 
in  front  of  the  church. 

When  they  reached  the  church  they  saw  a  figure 
standing  with  a  Hfted  hand.  The  janitor,  ordered  by 
Harricutt  to  keep  a  watch. 

The  car  stoopped  at  once 

"  Mark,  they're  wantin'  ye  in  there,"  he  said  with  a 
flirt  of  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  and  a  furtive  glance 
behind,  "  Keep  yer  eyes  peeled,  fer  old  Cutter-up  is  bossin* 
the  job,  an'  you  know  him! " 

Billy  sat  up  and  took  notice. 

Mark  got  out  with  a  grave  old  look  upon  his  face,  and 
started  up  the  walk.  Billy  made  a  move  to  follow,  hesi^ 
tated,  drew  back,  held  himself  in  readiness  and  watched, 
all  his  boy  instincts  and  prejudices  keen  on  the  trail  again. 

And  so  to  the  old  sad  song  of  his  mistakes  and  sins 
Mark  entered  the  door  of  the  sessions  room  where  once  he 
and  Marilyn  had  gone  one  happy  summer  morning  to 
meet  the  session  and  confess  their  faith  in  Christ. 

As  he  had  passed  the  window  by  the  organ  loft  he  gave 
one  look  up  where  Lynn's  face  was  framed  in  the  ivy  of 
the  window  under  the  light.  He  drank  in  the  sight 
hungrily.  But  the  next  instant  he  caught  the  vision  of 
the  young  stranger  standing  with  admiring  eyes,  saw 
Marilyn  turn  and  look  up  and  answer  him,  but  could  not 
see  how  far  away  and  sad  her  eyes. 

And  with  this  shadow  upon  his  heart  he  passed  in  to 
that  waiting  group  of  hard  critical  men,  with  the  white 
faced  minister  in  their  midst,  and  stood  to  meet 
their  challenge. 


XI 


The  janitor  had  gone  in  to  put  the  church  in  order  f  o?^ 
the  night  and  hover  about  to  find  out  what  was  going  on 
in  the  session  room.  He  never  told  but  he  hked  to  know. 
The  moon  had  gone  under  a  cloud.  Billy  slipped  out  of 
the  car,  and  slid  up  the  side  path  like  a  wraith,  his  tired 
legs  seeming  to  gather  new  vigor  with  the  need.  He  gavt 
a  glance  of  content  up  to  the  window.  He  was  glad  the 
bells  were  ringing,  and  that  she  was  there.  He  wished 
she  knew  what  peril  their  friend  had  been  in  last  night^i 
and  how  he  was  rescued  and  safe. 

And  then  he  sighted  the  stranger! 

Who  was  that  guy!  Some  sissy,  that  was  sure! 
Aw  gee! 

He  slid  into  the  shadow  out  of  sight  and  flattened 
himself  against  the  wall  with  an  attentive  ear  to  the  door 
of  the  session  room.  He  raised  himself  by  chinning  up  to 
the  window  ledge  and  got  a  bird's  eye  view  of  the  situation 
at  a  glance.  Aw  Gee!  That  old  Hair-cut!  He  wished 
the  bells  would  stop.  That  sissy  in  there  with  her,  and 
all  these  here  with  Cart,  and  no  telling  what's  up  next? 
Aw  gee!  Life  was  jest  one — !  He  slimiped  his  back  to  the 
wall  and  faced  the  parsonage.  Say,  what  were  those  two 
cars  over  there  in  front  of  the  parsonage?  Say!  That 
must  be  the  guy,  the  rich  guy !  Aw  gee !  In  there  with  her! 
If  he  only  hadn't  put  up  that  detour !  Pat  knew  what  he 
was  about  after  all,  a  little  sissy  guy  like  that — !  Aw, 
gee!    But  two  cars!    What  did  two  cars  mean? 

And  over  on  the  parsonage  piazza,  at  the  far  end  in 

the  shelter  of  the  vines  sat  Aunt  Saxon  in  the  dark  crying. 

Beside    her   was    Mrs.    Severn   with   her   hand   on   the 

woman's   shoulder  talking  in   her  gentle   steady  voice. 

128 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  129 

Everybody  loved  the  minister's  wife  just  as  much  as  they 
loved  the  minister: 

"  Yes,  he  went  away  on  his  wheel  last  night  just  after 
dark,"  she  sobbed.  "  Yes !  he  came  home  after  the  base- 
ball game,  and  he  made  a  great  fuss  gettin'  some  paint  and 
brushes  and  contrapshions  fixed  on  his  old  bicycle,  and 
then  he,  went  off.  Oh,  he  usually  goes  off  awhile  every 
night.  I  can't  seem  to  stop  him.  I've  tried  everything 
short  of  lockin'  him  out.  I  reckon  if  I  did  he'd  never  come 
back,  an'  I  can't  seem  to  bring  myself  to  lock  out  my 
sister's  baby — !  " 

"  Of  course  not!  "  said  Mrs.  Severn  tenderly. 

'*  Well,  he  stuck  his  head  back  in  the  door  this  time, 
an'  he  said  mebbe  he  wouldn't  be  back  till  mornin',  but 
Ve'd  be  back  all  right  for  Sunday  School.  That's  one 
thing,  Mrs.  Severn,"  she  lifted  her  tear  stained  face, 
"  That's  one  thing  he  does  like — his  Sunday  School, 
Billy  does,  and  I'm  that  glad!  Sometimes  I  just  sit  down 
an'  cry  about  it  I'm  so  glad.  You  know  awhile  back  when 
Miss  Lynn  was  off  to  college  that  Mr.  Harricutt  had  the 
boys'  class,  an'  I  couldn't  get  him  to  go  anyhow.  Why, 
once  I  offered  to  pay  him  so  he  could  save  fer  a  baseball 
bat  if  he'd  go,  but  do  you  know  he  said  he'd  rather  go 
without  baseball  bats  fer  ever  than  go  listen  to  that  old — • 
Well,  Mrs.  Severn,  I  won't  repeat  what  he  said.  It  wasn't 
respectful,  not  to  an  elder  you  know.  But  Miss  Lynn, 
why  he  just  worships,  an'  anything  she  says  he  does.  But 
that's  one  thing  worries  me,  Mrs.  Severn,  he  didn't  come 
back  for  her  even!  He  said  he'd  be  back  fer  Sunday 
School,  an'  he  hasn't  come  back  yet !  " 

"  Who  does  he  go  with  most.  Miss  Saxon?  Let's  try 
to  think  where  he  might  be.  Perhaps  we  could  call  up 
some  one  and  find  out  where  he  is." 

"  Well,  I  tell  you,"  wailed  the  Aunt,  ''  That's  just  it. 
There's  just  one  person  he  likes  as  well,  or  mebbe  better'n 

9 


130  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Miss  Mary  Lynn,  an*  that's  Mark  Carter!  Mrs.  Severn 
I'm  just  afraid  he's  gone  off  with  Mark  Carter !  "  she 
lowered  her  voice  to  a  sepulchral  whisper,  "  And  Mrs. 
Severn,  they  do  say  that  Mark  is  real  wild! " 

Mrs.  Severn  sat  up  a  little  straighter  and  put  a  trifle  of 
assurance  into  her  voice,  or  was  it  aloofness  ? : 

"  Oh,  Miss  Saxon !  "  she  said  earnestly,  "  I  don't  think 
you  ought  to  feel  that  way  about  Mark.  I've  known  him 
since  he  waS'  a  mere  baby,  and  I've  always  loved  him.  I 
don't  believe  Mark  will  ever  do  Billy  any  harm.  He's 
a  boy  with  a  strong  character.  He  may  do  things  that 
people  don't  understand,  but  I'd  trust  him  to  the  limit  1 " 

She  was  speaking  eagerly,  earnestly,  in  the  words  that 
her  husband  had  used  to  her  a  few  days  before,  and  she 
knew  as  she  said  it  that  she  believed  it  was  all  true.  It 
gave  her  a  great  comfort  to  know  that  she  believed  it  was 
true.    She  loved  Mark  almost  as  though  he  were  her  own. 

Miss  Saxon  looked  up  with  a  sigh  and  mopped  her  pink 
wet  face: 

"  Well,  I  certainly  am  relieved  to  hear  you  say  that ! 
Billy  thinks  the  sun  rises  and  sets  in  *  Cart,'  as  he  calls 
him.  I  guess  if  Cart  should  call  him  he'd  go  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth  with  him.  I  know  /  couldn't  stop  him.  But 
you  see  Mrs.  Severn,  I  oughtn't  to  have  to  bring  up  chil- 
dren, especially  boys?  Billy  always  was  headstrong,  and 
he's  getting  worse  every  day." 

*'rm  sure  you  do  your  best.  Miss  Saxon,  and  I'm  sure 
Billy  will  turn  out  a  fine  man  some  day.  My  Lynn  thinks 
a  great  deal  of  him.  She  feels  he's  growing  very  thought- 
ful and  manly :" 

"Does  she  now?"  the  tired  pink  face  was  lifted 
damply  with  a  ray  of  cheer. 

Then  the  telephone  bell  rang.  Mrs.  Severn  rose  and 
excused  herself  to  answer  it : 

"Yes?   Yes,  Mrs.  Carter.     Mrs.  Severn  is  speaking. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  131 

Is  anything  the  matter  ?  Your  voice  sounds  troubled.  Oh, 
Mrs.  Carter!  I'm  so  sorry,  but  I'm  sure  you  can  trust 
Mark.  He's  a  man  you  know  and  he's  always  been  an 
unusually  dependable  boy,  especially  to  us  who  know  him 
well.  He'll  come  back  all  right.  What?  Oh,  Mrs. 
Carter!  No,  I  haven't  heard  any  such  reports,  but  I'm  sure 
they're  just  gossip.  You  know  how  people  will  talk. 
What  do  you  say?  They  phoned  you  from  Economy? 
Who?  The  police?  They  asked  for  Mark?  Well,  I 
wouldn't  let  that  worry  you.  Mark  always  was  helpful 
to  the  police  in  finding  people,  or  going  with  them  after  a 
lost  car,  you  know.  I  wouldn't  worry.  Who?  Billy? 
Billy  Gaston?  Oh,  you  saw  Billy  this  morning?  Well, 
that's  good.  His  aunt  has  worried  all  day  about  him.  I'll 
tell  her.  Who  ?  A  sick  man  on  the  mountain  ?  Well,  now 
Mrs.  Carter,  don't  you  know  Mark  always  was  doing 
things  for  people  in  trouble  ?  He'll  come  home  safely,  but 
of  course  we'll  just  turn  the  earth  upside  down  to  find  him 
for  we  are  not  going  to  let  you  and  Miss  Saxon  worry 
any  longer.  Just  you  wait  till  Mr.  Severn  gets  back.  He's 
in  a  session  meeting  and  it  oughtn't  to  last  long,  it  was 
just  a  special  meeting  called  hurriedly.  He'll  come  right 
over  as  soon  as  it's  out  and  see  what  he  can  do  to  help. 
Yes,  of  course  he  will.  No  don't  bother  to  thank  me.  He 
would  want  to  of  course.     Good-bye !  " 

She  came  hopefully  out  to  the  piazza  to  Miss  Saxon. 
But  just  at  that  instant  Billy's  aunt  jumped  to  her  feet,  her 
eyes  large  with  excitement,  and  pointed  toward  the  open 
session  door,  where  framed  against  the  light  stood  Mark 
Carter,  straight  and  tall  facing  the  circle  of  men,  and 
behind  him,  out  in  the  dark,  with  only  his  swaggy  old 
sweater  shoulder  and  the  visor  of  his  floppy  old  cap  show- 
ing around  the  door  jamb  lurked  Billy. 

"  There !  There !  "  Whispered  Mrs.  Severn,  patting 
her  shoulder.    "  I  told  you  he'd  come  back  all  right.   Now, 


132  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

don't  you  worry  about  it,  and  don't  you  scold  him.  Just 
go  home  and  get  him  some  supper.  He'll  be  likely  very 
hungry,  and  then  get  him  to  go  right  to  bed.  Wait  till 
to-morrow  to  settle  up.  Miss  Saxon,  it's  always  better, 
then  we  have  clearer  judgment  and  are  not  nearly  so 
likely  to  lose  our  tempers  and  say  the  wrong  thing." 

The  bells  had  stopped  ringing,  and  Marilyn  had  closed 
the  organ  and  drawn  the  window  shut.  The  two 
strangers  were  trailing  slowly  across  the  lawn,  the  lady 
laughing  loudly.  Miss  Saxon  eyed  them  with  the  kind  of 
fascination  a  wild  rabbit  has  for  a  strange  dog,  pressed 
the  hand  of  the  minister's  wife  with  a  fervent  little 
squeeze,  and  scurried  away  into  the  dark  street.  Marilyn 
lingered  silently  on  the  front  steps  after  the  janitor  had 
locked  the  door  inside  and  gone  back  to  the  session  room. 

In  the  session  room  Mark  Carter,  white  with  the  ex- 
periences of  the  night  and  day,  yet  alert,  stern,  questioning, 
stood  looking  from  one  man  to  another,  keenly,  uncom- 
promisingly. This  was  a  man  whom  any  would  notice  in 
a  crowd.  Character,  physical  perfection,  strength  of  will 
all  combined  to  make  him  stand  out  from  other  men.  And 
over  it  all,  like  a  fire  from  within  there  played  an  over- 
whelming sadness  that  had  a  transparent  kind  of  refining 
effect,  as  if  a  spirit  dwelt  there  who  by  sheer  force  of  will 
went  on  in  the  face  of  utter  hopelessness. 

The  stillness  in  the  session  room  was  tense  as  the  self 
appointed  jury  faced  their  victim  and  tried  to  look  him 
down;  then  slowly  recognized  something  that  made  them 
uneasy,  and  one  by  one  each  pair  of  eyes  save  two,  were 
vanquished  and  turned  embarrassedly  away,  or  sought  the 
pattern  of  the  mossy  carpet. 

Those  two  pairs  of  eyes  that  were  friendly  Mark 
found  out  at  once,  and  it  was  as  if  he  embraced  them  with 
his  own.   His  friends — Duncannon  and  the  minister !   He 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  1S3 

sKot  a  grateful  glance  at  them  and  faced  the  others  down, 
but  opened  not  his  lips. 

At  last  Harricutt,  his  chief  accuser,  mustered  up  his 
sharp  little  eyes  again  from  under  the  overhanging  eaves 
of  rough  gray  brow,  and  shot  out  a  disagreeable  under  lip : 

"  We  have  sent  for  you,  here,  to-night,  Mark  Carter," 
he  began  slowly,  impressively,  raising  a  loose  jointed  long 
forefinger  accusingly,  as  he  gained  courage,  "  to  inquire 
concerning  the  incriminating  reports  that  are  in  circulation 
with  regard  to  your  character." 

Mark  turned  his  hard  eyes  toward  the  elder,  and 
seemed  to  congeal  into  something  inflexible,  impenetrable, 
as  if  he  had  suddenly  let  down  a  cold  sheet  iron  door  be- 
tween his  soul  and  them,  against  which  the  words,  like  shot 
or  pebbles,  rattled  sharp  and  unharming  and  fell  in  a 
shower  at  the  feet  of  the  speaker.  There  was  something 
about  his  bearing  that  became  a  prince  or  president,  and 
always  made  a  fault  finder  feel  small  and  inadequate.  The 
minister  felt  his  heart  throb  with  a  thrill  of  pride  in  the 
boy  as  he  stood  there  just  with  his  presence  hurling  back 
the  suspicions  that  had  met  to  undo  him.  His  stern  young 
face  was  like  a  mask  of  something  that  had  once  been 
beautiful  with  life,  whose  utter  sorrow  and  hopelessness 
pierced  one  at  the  sight.  And  so  he  stood  and  looked  at 
Elder  Harricutt,  who  shot  him  one  glance  and  then  looking 
down  began  to  fiddle  with  his  watch  chain,  halting  in 
his  speech: 

"  They  say — "  he  began  again  with  a  hiss,  as  he  lifted 
his  eyes,  strong  in  the  consciousness  that  he  was  not 
alone  in  his  accusation, — "  They  say — .' '' 

"  Please  leave  what  they  say  out  of  the  question,  Mr. 
Harricutt.  What  do  you  say?  "  Mark's  voice  was  cold, 
incisive,  there  was  nothing  quailing  in  his  tone. 

"  Young  man,  we  can't  leave  what  they  say  out  of 
the  question !    It  plays  a  very  important  part  in  the  repu- 


134  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

tation  of  the  Church  of  Christ  of  which  you  are  an  un- 
worthy part,"  shot  back  the  hard  old  man,  "  We  are  here 
to  know  what  you  have  to  say  concerning  the  things  that 
are  being  said  openly  about  you." 

"A  man  does  not  always  know  what  is  being  said 
about  him,  Mr.  Harricutt."  Still  that  hard  cold  voice, 
still  indifferent  to  the  main  issue,  and  ready  to  fight  it. 

"  A  man  ought  to !  "  snapped  Harricutt  impatiently. 

Suddenly,  without  warning,  the  mask  lifted,  the  curve 
of  the  lips  drew  up  at  the  left  corner  revealing  the  row  of 
even  white  teeth,  and  a  twinkle  at  the  corners  of  the  gray, 
thoughtful  eyes,  giving  in  a  flash  a  vision  of  the  merry 
mischief -loving  boy  he  had  been,  and  his  whole  coun- 
tenance was  lit.  Mark  was  never  so  attractive  as  when 
smiling.  It  brought  out  the  lovingness  of  his  eyes,  and 
took  away  the  hard  oldness  of  his  finely  cut  features. 

"  Mr.  Harricutt,  I  have  often  wondered  if  you  knew^ 
all  that  people  say  about  you?" 

''WHAT?" 

There  was  sudden  stir  in  the  session  room.  The  elders 
moved  their  chairs  with  a  swishing  sound,  cleared  their 
throats  hastily,  and  put  sudden  hands  up  to  hide  furtive 
smiles.  Elder  Duncannon  grinned  broadly,  there  was  a 
twinkle  in  even  the  minister's  eyes,  and  outside  the  door 
Billy  manfully  stifled  a  snicker.  Elder  Harricutt  shot  his 
angry  little  eyes  around  in  the  mirthful  atmosphere,  start- 
ing at  Mark's  quizzical  smile,  and  going  around  the  uneasy 
group  of  men,  back  to  Mark  again.  But  the  smile  was 
gone !  One  could  hardly  be  sure  it  had  been  there  at  all. 
Mark  was  hard  cold  steel  again,  a  blank  wall,  impenetrable. 
There  was  no  sign  that  the  young  man  intended  to  repeat 
the  mocking  offense. 

"  Young  man !  This  is  no  time  for  levity !  "  he  roared 
forth  menacingly. 

"  You  are  on  the  verge  of  being  arrested  for  murder ! 
Did  you  know  it  ?  " 


.^THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  135 

The  minister  watching,  thought  he  saw  a  quiver  go 
through  the  steady  eyes,  a  slight  contracting  of  the  pupil, 
a  hardening  of  the  sensitive  mouth,  that  was  all.  The  boy 
stood  unflinching,  and  spoke  with  steady  lips : 

"  I  did  not." 

"  Well,  you  are !  "  reiterated  the  elder,  "  And  even  if 
the  man  doesn't  die,  there  is  plenty  else.  Answer  me  this 
question.  It's  no  use  beating  around  the  bush.  Where 
were  you  at  three  o'clock  this  morning?  " 

The  answer  came  without  hesitation,  steadily,  frankly : 

"  On  Stark's  Mountain,  as  nearly  as  I  can  make  out." 

Billy  held  his  breath  and  wondered  what  was  coming 
next.  He  caught  his  hands  on  the  window  ledge  and 
chinned  himself  again,  his  eyes  and  the  fringe  of  his  dis- 
hevelled brown  hair  appearing  above  the  window  sill,  but 
the  startled  session  was  not  looking  out  the  window  just 
then.  Mr.  Harricutt  looked  slightly  put  out.  Stark's 
Mountain  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  matter,  and  the 
young  man  was  probably  trying  to  prove  an  alibi.  He  sat 
up  jerkily  and  placed  his  elbows  on  the  chair  arms,  touch- 
ing the  tips  of  his  long  bony  fingers,  fitting  them  together 
carefully  and  speaking  in  aggravated  detached  syllables  in 
rhythm  with  the  movement  of  his  fingers. 

'*  Young — ^man !  An — swer  me ! — Ware — you — or 
ware  you — not — at — ^the — Blue —  Duck —  Tavern — last 
— evening?  " 

Blue  and  red  lights  seemed  to  flicker  in  the  cold  steel 
eyes  of  the  young  man. 

"  I  was! '' 

"A — hemmm!"  The  elder  glanced  around  tri- 
umphantly, and  went  on  with  the  examination : 

"  Well, — young  man! — Ware  you — or — ^ware  you 
not — ac — companied — by  a  young  wumman — of — no- 
torious— I  may  say — infamous  character?  In  other  words 
— a  young  girl — commonly  called — Cherry?  Cherry 
Penning  I  believe  is  her  whole  name.  Ware  you  with  her  ?" 


136  THE  CITY  OF  FIEE 

Mark's  face  was  set,  his  eyes  were  glaring.  The  min- 
ister felt  that  if  Harricutt  had  dared  look  up  he  would 
almost  be  afraid,  now. 

But  after  an  instant's  hesitation  when  it  almost  looked 
as  if  Mark  were  struggling  with  desire  to  administer  cor- 
poral punishment  to  the  little  old  bigot,  he  lifted  his  head 
defiantly  and  replied  in  hard  tones  as  before : 

"  There !  "  said  Elder  Harricutt,  wetting  his  lips  and 
smiling  fiendishly  around  the  group,  "  There !  Didn't  I 
tell  you  ?" 

"  May  I  inquire,"  asked  Mark  startlingly,  "  What  busi- 
ness of  yours  it  is  ?  " 

Harricutt  bristled. 

"What  business?  What  business f'^  he  repeated 
severely,  "  Why,  this  business,  young  man.  Your  name  is 
on  our  church  roll  as  a  member  in  good  and  regular 
standing!  For  sometime  past  you  have  been  dragging 
the  name  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  in  the  dust  of  dishonor 
by  your  goings  on.  It  is  our  responsibility  as  elders  of  this 
church  to  see  that  this  goes  on  no  longer." 

"  I  see !  "  said  Mark,  "  I  haven't  heard  from  any  of  the 
other  elders  on  the  subject,  but  assuming  that  you  are  all 
of  one  mind — "  he  swept  the  room  with  his  glance, 
omitting  the  stricken  faces  of  the  minister  and  Mr. 
Duncannon,  "  I  will  relieve  you  of  further  responsibility 
in  the  matter  by  asking  you  to  strike  my  name  from  the 
roll  at  once." 

He  was  turning,  his  look  of  white  still  scorn  fell  upon 
them  like  fire  that  scorches.  Outside  the  door  Billy,  for- 
getful that  he  might  be  seen,  was  peering  in,  his  brows 
down  in  deep  scawls,  his  lower  jaw  protruded,  his  grimy 
fists  clenched.  A  fraction  of  a  second  longer  and  Billy 
would  butt  into  the  session  like  some  mad  young  goat. 
Respect  for  the  session?     Not  he!    They  were  bullying 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  137 

his  idol,  Cart,  who  had  already  gone  through  death  and 
still  lived!     They  should  see!     Aw  Gee! 

But  a  diversion  occurred  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  It 
was  Joyce,  the  new  member,  the  owner  of  the  canneries, 
who  had  just  built  a  new  house  with  electric  appliances, 
and  owned  the  best  car  in  town.  He  was  a  stickler  for 
proprieties,  but  he  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  minister, 
and  he  had  been  watching  Mr.  Severn's  face.  Also,  he 
had  watched  Mark's. 

"Now,  now,  now,  young  brother!"  he  said  sooth- 
ingly, rising  in  his  nice  pleasant  gentlemanly  way,  '*  don't 
be  hasty!  This  can  all  be  adjusted  I  am  sure  if  we  fully 
understand  one  another.  I  am  a  comparative  stranger 
here  I  know,  but  I  would  suggest  taking  this  thing 
quietly  and  giving  Mr.  Carter  a  chance  to  explain  himself. 
You  must  own.  Brother  Carter,  that  we  had  some  reason 
to  be  anxious.  You  know,  the  Bible  tells  us  to  avoid  even 
the  appearance  of  evil." 

Mark  turned  with  perfect  courtesy  to  this  new  voice : 

"  The  Bible  also  tells  us  not  to  judge  one  another !  "  he 
replied  quickly.  "  Mr.  Joyce,  you  are  a  stranger  here,  but 
I  am  not.  They  have  known  me  since  childhood.  Also 
there  are  some  items  that  might  be  of  interest  to  you. 
Cherry  Penning  five  years  ago  was  a  little  girl  in  this 
Sunday  School.  She  stood  up  in  that  pulpit  out  there  one 
Children's  Sunday  and  sang  in  a  sweet  little  voice,  7^sus 
loves  me  this  I  know,  for  the  Bible  tells  me  so/  She  was  an 
innocent  little  child  then,  and  everybody  praised  her. 
Now,  because  she  has  been  talked  about  you  are  all  ready 
to  condemn  her.  And  who  is  going  to  help  her  ?  I  tell  you 
if  that  is  the  kind  of  Christ  you  have,  and  the  kind  of 
Bible  you  are  following  I  want  no  more  of  it  and  I  am 
ready  to  have  my  name  taken  off  the  roll  at  once." 

Harricutt  rose  in  his  excitement  pointing  his  long- 
flapping  forefinger : 


138  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"You  see,  gentlemen,  you  see!  He  defies  us!  He 
goes. farther !    He  defies  his  God !  '* 

Suddenly  the  minister  rose  with  uplifted  hand,  and 
the  voice  that  never  failed  to  command  attention,  spoke : 

"Let  us  pray  I" 

With  sudden  startled  indrawing  of  breath,  and  half 
obedient  bowing  of  the  heads,  the  elders  paused,  standing 
or  sitting  as  they  were,  and  Mark  with  high  defiant  head 
stood  looking  straight  at  his  old  friend. 

"  Oh,  God,  our  Father,  O  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour," 
prayed  the  minister  in  a  voice  that  showed  he  felt  the 
Presence  near,  "  Save  us  in  this  trying  moment  from  com- 
mitting further  sin.  Give  us  Thy  wisdom,  and  Thy  loving- 
kindness.  Show  us  that  only  he  that  is  without  sin  among 
us  may  cast  the  first  stone.  Put  thy  love  about  us  all.  We 
are  all  Thy  children.    Amen." 

Into  the  silence  that  followed  this  prayer  his  voice  con- 
tinued quietly : 

"  I  will  ask  Mr.  Harricutt  to  take  the  chair  for  a 
moment.    I  would  like  to  make  a  motion." 

The  elders  looked  abashed. 

"  Why, — I, — "  began  Harricutt,  and  then  saw  there 
was  nothing  else  for  him  to  do,  and  stepped  excitedly  over 
to  the  minister's  seat  behind  the  table,  and  sank  reluctantly 
down,  trying  to  think  how  he  could  best  make  use  of  his 
present  position  to  further  his  side  of  the  question. 

The  minister  was  still  standing,  seeming  to  hold  within 
his  gaze  the  eyes  of  every  one  in  the  room  including  Mark. 

"  I  wish  to  make  a  motion,"  said  the  minister,  "I  move 
that  we  have  a  rising  vote,  expressi*ng  our  utmost  confi- 
dence in  Mr.  Carter,  and  leaving  it  to  his  discretion  to  ex- 
plain his  conduct  or  not  as  he  pleases !  I  have  known  this 
dear  young  brother  since  he  was  a  boy,  and  I  would  trust 
him  always,  anywhere,  with  anything !  " 

A  wonderful  shiny  look  of  startled  wonder,  and  deep 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  139 

joy  came  into  the  eyes  of  the  young  man,  followed  by  a 
stabbing  cloud  of  anguish,  and  then  the  hard  controlled 
face  once  more,  with  the  exception  of  a  certain  tenderness 
as  he  looked  toward  the  minister. 

"Mr.  Duncannon,  will  you  second  my  motion?" 
finished  Severn. 

The  long  gaunt  dark  elder  was  on  his  feet  instantly : 
**  Sure,  Brother  Severn,  I  second  that  motion.  If  you 
hadn't  got  ahead  of  me  I'd  have  firsted  it  myself.  I  know 
Mark.  He's  all  right! "  and  he  put  out  a  hairy  hand  and 
grasped  Mark's  young  strong  fingers,  that  gripped 
his  warmly. 

Harricutt  was  on  his  feet,  tapping  on  the  table  with  his 
pencil :  "  I  think  this  motion  is  out  of  order,"  he  cried 
excitedly — but  no  one  listened,  and  the  minister  said 
calmly,  "  Will  the  chair  put  the  question?" 

Baffled,  angry,  bitter,  the  old  stickler  went  through  the 
hated  words :  "  It  is  moved  and  seconded  that  we  express 
our  confidence — " 

"  Utmost  confidence.  Brother  Harricutt — "  broke  in 
the  minister's  voice.  "  The  red  came  up  in  the  elder's  face, 
but  he  choked  out  the  words  "  utmost  confidence,"  on 
through  the  whole  motion,  and  by  the  time  it  was  out  four 
elders  were  on  their  feet,  Duncannon  and  Joyce  first,  thank 
God,  Gibson,  more  slowly.  Fowler  pulled  up  by  the  strong 
wiry  hand  of  Duncannon  who  sat  next  him. 

"  Stop ! "  suddenly  spoke  Mark's  clear  incisive  voice, 
"  I  cannot  let  you  do  this.  I  deeply  appreciate  the  confi- 
dence of  Mr.  Severn  and  Mr.  Duncannon,"  he  paused 
looking  straight  into  the  eyes  of  the  new  elder  and  added — 
"  and  Mr.  Joyce,  who  does  not  know  me.  But  I  am  not 
worthy  of  so  deep  a  trust.  I  ask  you  to  remove  my  name 
from  your  church  roll  that  in  future  my  actions  shall  not 
be  your  responsibility! "  With  that  he  gave  one  lingering 
tender  look  toward  the  minister,  pressed  hard  the  hairy 


140  THE  CITY  OF  FIEE 

hand  of  the  old  Scotch  elder,  and  went  out  of  the  room  be- 
fore anyone  realized  he  was  going. 

Billy,  with  a  gasp,  and  a  look  after  his  beloved  idol, 
hesitated,  then  pulled  himself  together  and  made  a  dash 
into  the  session  room,  like  a  catapult  landing  straight  in  the 
spot  where  Mark  had  stood,  but  ignoring  all  the  rest  he 
looked  up  at  the  minister  and  spoke  rapidly : 

**  Mr.  Severn,  please  sir.  Mark  was  with  me  last  night 
from  twelve  o'clock  on.  Me  an'  him  passed  the  Pleasant 
view  Station  in  a  car  going  over  to  Stark's  Mountain,  just 
as  the  bells  was  ringing  over  here  fer  midnight,  cause  I 
counted  'em,  and  Mark  was  over  to  Stark's  Mountain  till 
most  noon  to-day,  and  I  come  home  with  him !  " 

The  minister's  face  was  blazing  with  glory,  and  old 
Duncannon  patted  Billy  on  the  shoulder,  and  beamed,  but 
Harricutt  arose  with  menace  in  his  eye  and  advanced  on 
the  young  intruder.  However,  before  anyone  could  do 
anything  about  it  a  strong  firm  hand  reached  out  from  the 
doorway  and  plucked  Billy  by  the  collar : 

"  That'll  do.  Kid,  Keep  your  mouth  shut  and  don't  say 
another  word !  "  It  was  Mark  and  he  promptly  removed 
Billy  from  the  picture. 

"  I  move  we  adjourn,"  said  Elder  Duncannon,  "  but 
the  minister  did  not  even  wait  for  the  motion  to  be  sec- 
onded. He  followed  Mark  out  into  the  moonlight,  and 
drew  him,  Billy  and  all,  across  the  lawn  toward  the  par- 
sonage, one  arm  thrown  lovingly  across  Mark's  shoulder. 
He  had  forgotten  entirely  the  two  guests  parked  on  the 
piazza  smoking  cigarettes !. 


XII 


As  the  shades  of  evening  had  drawn  down  two  figures 
that  had  been  lurking  all  day  in  the  fastnesses  of  Lone 
Valley  over  beyond  the  state  Highway,  stole  forth  and 
crept  sealthily  under  cover  to  Stark  Mountain. 

A  long  time  they  lingered  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  till 
the  dark  was  velvet  black  around  them,  before  the  moon 
arose.  Then  slowly,  cautiously  they  drew  near  the  haunted 
house,  observing  it  long  and  silently  from  every  possible 
angle,  till  satisfied  that  no  enemy  was  about.  Yet  taking 
no  chances  even  then,  the  taller  one  crept  forth  from 
shelter  while  the  other  watched.  So  stealthily  he  went  that 
even  his  companion  heard  no  stir. 

It  was  some  ten  minutes  that  Shorty  waited  there  in 
the  bushes  scarcely  daring  to  breathe,  while  Link  painfully 
quiet,  inch  by  inch  encircled  the  house,  and  listened,  try- 
ing the  front  door  first  and  finding  it  fast ;  softly  testing 
the  cellar  windows  one  by  one,  beginning  from  the  eastern 
end,  going  toward  the  front  first,  and  so  missing  the 
window  by  which  Billy  had  entered.  A  hundred  times  his 
operation  was  halted  by  the  sound  of  a  rat  scuttling  across 
the  floor,  or  racketing  in  the  wall,  but  the  hollow  echoes 
assured  him  over  and  over  again  that  the  house  was  not 
occupied,  at  least  not  by  anyone  awake  and  in  his  senses. 
Link  had  been  in  the  business  so  long  that  he  "  felt  ^'  when 
there  was  an  enemy  near.  That  was  v/hat  vexed  him  now. 
He  had  "  felt  '*  that  morning  that  someone  was  near,  but 
he  had  laid  it  to  nerves  and  the  reported  ghost,  and  had 
not  heeded  his  trained  faculties.  He  was  back  now  doubly 
alert  to  discover  the  cause  and  make  good  his  failure  in 
the  morning.  He  had  undertaken  to  look  after  this  guy 
and  see  this  job  through  and  there  was  big  money  in  it.  He 

141 


142  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

was  heavily  armed  and  prepared  for  any  reasonable  sur- 
prise. He  meant  to  get  this  matter  straight  before  morning. 
So,  feeling  his  way  along  in  the  blackness,  listening,  halt- 
ing at  every  moment  with  bated  breath,  he  came  at  last  to 
the  back  door,  and  drawing  himself  up  to  the  steps,  took 
the  knob  in  his  hand  and  turned  it.  To  his  surprise  it  yielded 
to  his  touch,  and  the  door  came  open.  And  yet  it  was  some 
seconds  of  tense  listening  before  he  let  himself  down  to 
the  ground  again,  and  with  his  hand  in  the  grass  let  out  a 
tiny  winking  flashlight,  no  more  than  a  firefly  would 
flicker,  and  out  again. 

This  was  answered  by  a  wink  from  the  bushes,  as  if 
the  same  firefly  or  its  mate  might  be  glowing,  and  after  an 
instant  another  wink  from  the  ground  near  the  house. 
Slowly  Shorty  arrived  without  noise,  his  big  bulk  muflling 
in  fat  the  muscles  of  velvet.  It  was  incredible  how  light 
his  step  could  be — professionally.  It  was  as  if  he  had  been 
wafted  there  like  down.  Silently  still  and  without  com- 
munication the  two  drifted  into  the  open  door,  sent  a 
searching  glowworm  ahead  into  the  crannies  of  the  dusty, 
musty  kitchen,  surprising  a  mouse  that  had  stolen  forth 
domestically.  The  door  being  shut  and  fastened  cautiously, 
the  key  in  Link's  pocket,  they  drifted  through  the  swing 
door,  as  air  might  have  circulated,  identifying  the  mouse's 
scuttle,  the  rattle  of  a  rat  among  the  loose  coal  in  the  cellar 
bin,  the  throaty  chirp  of  a  cricket  outside  in  the  grass,  and 
drifting  on. 

Thus  they  searched  the  lower  floor,  even  as  Billy  had 
done,  though  more  thoroughly,  and  mounted  to  the  landing 
above,  here  they  divided.  Shorty  at  watch  in  the  hall,  while 
Link  went  to  the  front  rooms  first  and  searched  each 
hastily,  not  omitting  closets,  ending  at  the  back  room  where 
the  prisoner  had  been. 

"  He's  gone !  "  said  Link  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  speaking 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  143 

for  the  first  time  after  a  hasty  scanning  of  the  shad- 
owy place. 

Shorty  took  the  precaution  to  turn  the  key  of  the  door 
leading  to  the  third  story  before  he  entered  to  investigate, 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  him  fired  that  shot  ?  " 

Link  shook  his  head. 

"Couldn't!  I  had  him  lifted  up  in  my  arms  and  was 
just  handing  him  some  more  dope  when  the  sound  come. 
It  seemed  it  was  out  front.  It  must  a  been  somebody  in 
the  front  room.  Sure !  That  guy  never  coulda  got  them 
bracelets  off  hisself .  Looka  here !  Them  was  filed  off !  " 
They  stood  with  the  flash  light  between  them  examining 
the  handcuffs,  and  then  turned  their  attention  to  the  rest 
of  the  room,  studying  the  bed  and  floors  carefully  for  any 
traces  of  the  possible  assistant  to  the  runaway  but  finding 
none.  Then  they  went  in  the  front  room  again,  and  this 
time  discovered  the  lowered  window  and  the  little  half 
moon  aperture  in  the  shutter. 

"How  do  you  figger  it?"  asked  Shorty  turning  a 
ghastly  face  toward  Link  in  the  plaided  darkness  of  the 
flash  light. 

"  Pat !  "  said  Link  laconically. 

"Pat?" 

"  Pat.  He's  yella !  I  told  Sam,  but  he  would  have  him ! 
I  ain*t  sure  but  Sam's  yella !  I  think  I'm  about  done  with 
this  outfit ! " 

"  But  Pat?    What  would  he  do  it  for?  " 

"  Coin  to  run  the  whole  game  hisself,  perhaps,  or  then 
again  he  might  be  in  with  Sam,  so  they  won't  have  to  diwy 
up.  He  could  say  we  hadn't  kept  out  contrac'  you  know, 
runnin'  away  like  that." 

"We  ain't  to  blame.  How'd  we  know  it  want  the^ 
police  ?  We  had  a  mighty  close  shave  over  that  state  line 
this  A.M." 

"Well,  that's  what  he  could  say,  an'  refuse  to  diwy 


144  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

up.  But  b'lieve  me,  Shorty !  Nobody's  goin'  to  do  me  dirty 
like  that!  Somebody's  been  doing  us  dirty,  you  and  me, 
and  it's  good  and  right  we  beat  'em  to  it." 

"  Yes,  but  how  ya  goin'  to  do  it?  " 

"I  ain't  sure  yet,  but  I'm  goin'  to  do  it.  The  first 
thing,  Shorty,  is  fer  us  to  get  outta  here  mighty  good  an' 
quick.  Ef  anybody's  watchin'  round,  we  better  not  be 
here.    We'll  fade  away.     See?" 

Without  flash  or  noise  they  faded,  going  cautiously  out 
by  the  front  door  this  time  and  disappearing  into  the  dark 
of  the  woods  just  as  the  horizon  over  Lone  Valley  began  ta 
show  luminous  in  the  path  of  the  oncoming  moon. 

They  walked  several  miles,  stealthily,  and  a  mile  or  two 
more  naturally,  before  they  ventured  on  a  word,  and  then 
Shorty  impatiently : 

"  I  don't  see  what  you  can  do.  Whattirya  goin'  ta  do?" 

"  Don't  get  excited.  Shorty,  I  see  my  way  out,"  said 
Link  afl^ably,  "  I  didn't  come  off  here  half  cocked.  I  inves- 
tigated before  I  took  on  the  job." 

"Whaddaya  mean?" 

"Well,  I  just  looked  up  the  parties  in  the  blue  book 
before  I  come  off.  Didn't  have  much  time,  but  I  just 
looked  'em  up.  Great  thing  that  blue  book.  Gives  ya 
lots  of  information.  Then  I  got  another  thing,  a  maga- 
zine I  always  buy  and  keep  on  hand.  It's  called  The 
House  Lovely,  an'  it  has  all  these  grand  gentlemen's  places 
put  down  in  pictures,  with  plans  and  everything.  It's  real 
handy  when  you  wantta  find  out  how  to  visit  'em  sort  of 
intimate  like,  and  it  kind  of  broadens  yer  mind.  It's  a  real 
pity  you  never  learned  to  read.  Shorty.  There's  nothing 
like  it  fer  getting  valuable  information.  I  read  a  lot  and 
I  always  remember  anything  that's  worth  while." 

*T  don't  see  how  that's  doin'  us  any  good  now," 
growled  Shorty. 

"  Don't  get  hasty,  Shorty,  I'm  comin'  to  it.    You  see 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  145 

these  here  Shaftons  have  been  on  my  mind  fer  some  while 
back.  I  make  it  a  point  to  know  about  guys  Hke  that.  I 
read  the  society  columns  and  keep  posted  about  little  de- 
tails. It  pays,  Shorty.  Now  see !  I  happen  to  know  that 
these  here  Shaftons  have  several  summer  homes,  one  in 
the  mountains,  one  at  the  seashore,  one  up  at  an  island 
out  in  the  ocean,  and  a  fafm  down  in  Jersey,  where  they 
go  at  Christmas  fer  the  holidays  sometimes.  Well,  just 
now  I  happen  to  know  Mrs.  Shafton — that's  this  guy's 
mother,  is  down  at  the  Jersey  house  all  alone  with  the 
servants.  Real  handy  fer  our  purposes,  ain't  it?  Not  so 
far  we  can't  get  there  by  mornin'  if  we  half  try,  and  the 
old  man  is  off  out  West  on  a  business  trip." 

"  What  you  gonta  do?  "  asked  Shorty. 

"  Well,  I  haven't  exactly  got  it  all  doped  out  yet,  but 
I  reckon  our  business  is  with  the  old  lady.  Let's  beat  it  as 
fast  as  we  can  to  a  trolley  and  dope  it  out  as  we  go.  You 
see  this  here  old  woman  is  nuts  on  her  son,  and  she's  lousy 
with  money  and  don't  care  how  she  spends  it,  so  her  baby 
boy  is  pleased.  Now,  I  figger  if  we  could  come  off  with 
five  thousand  apiece,  you'n  I  we'd  be  doin'  a  good  night's 
work  and  no  mistake.    Whaddayou  say?  " 

"  Sure  thing,"  grumped  Shorty  unbelievingly. 

**  You  see,"  continued  Link,  "  We're  in  bad,  this  guy 
escaping  and  all,  and  like  as  not  Pat  swiping  all  the  boodle 
and  layin'  the  blame  onto  us.  You  can't  tell  what  might 
happen  with  Pat  an'  Sam,  the  dirty  devils.  They  might 
even  let  it  come  to  a  trial  and  testify  against  us.  Sam  has 
it  in  fer  me  an'  you  this  long  time,  'count  of  that  last  pretty 
little  safe  blow-out  that  didn't  materialize.    See  ?  " 

Shorty  growled  gloomily. 

"  Now  on  the  other  hand  if  we  can  step  in  before  it  is 
too  late,  or  before  the  news  of  his  havin'  escaped  gets  to 
his  fond  parents,  and  get  in  our  little  work,  we  might  at 
least  make  expenses  out  of  it  and  beat  it  out  of  the  country 

10 


146  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

fer  a  while.  I  been  thinkin'  of  South  America  fer  my 
health  fer  some  time  past.  How  ^bout  you  ?" 
"  Suits  me.  But  how  you  gonta  work  it  ?  " 
"  Well,  you  see  I  know  a  little  bit  about  wimmen.  An' 
I  seen  this  woman  oncet.  If  she  was  one  of  these  here  new- 
fangled political  kind  you  couldn't  do  nothin*  with  her, 
she'd  be  onta  you  in  no  time  an*  have  you  up  before  the 
supreme  court  'fore  she  goddone,  but  this  here  woman  is 
one  o'  them  old  fashioned,  useless  kind  that's  afraid  of 
everything  and  cries  easy,  and  gets  scairt  at  her  shadder. 
I  seen  her  on  the  board  walk  once  with  her  husband,  took 
notice  to  her,  thought  I  might  need  it  sometime.  She 
has  gray  hair  but  she  ain't  never  growed  up.  She  was 
ridin'  in  a  wheeled  chair,  an'  him  walkin'  beside  her  an' 
a  man  behind  pushin'  her,  an'  a  maid  comin'  along  with 
a  fur  coat.  She  never  done  a  thing  fer  herself,  not  even 
think,  an'  that's  the  kind  you  can  put  anything  over  on 
from  a  teaparty  to  a  blizzard  without  her  suspectin'  a 
thing.  Shorty,  I'm  gonta  make  up  to  Mrs.  Shafton 
an'  see  what  I  can  get  out  of  her.  But  we  gotta  get  a  trol- 
ley line  down  to  Unity  an'  catch  that  evenin'  train.  See?  " 
About  half-past  ten  that  night,  with  the  moon  at  full  sail. 
Shorty  and  Link,  keeping  the  shady  side  of  the  street, 
slunk  into  a  Httle  obscure,  and  as  yet  unsuppressed  saloon 
in  a  back  street  in  a  dirty  little  manufacturing  city  not 
many  miles  from  Unity.  Just  off  the  side  entrance  was  a 
back  hall  in  which  lurked  a  dark  smelly  little  telephone 
booth  under  a  staircase,  too  far  removed  from  the  noisy 
crowd  that  frequented  the  place  to  be  heard.  Here  Link 
took  instant  refuge  with  Shorty  bulking  largely  in  front 
of  the  door,  smoking  a  thin  black  twisted  cigar,  and  look- 
ing anything  but  happy.  He  had  figured  greatly  on  getting 
his  share  of  a  million,  and  now  at  a  single  shot  he  had  let 
it  go  through  his  fingers.  There  were  reasons  why  he 
needed  that  part  of  a  million  at  once. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  147 

Link  had  all  sorts  of  nerve.  He  called  up  the  Shafton 
home  in  New  Jersey  and  jollied  the  maid,  calling  her 
girlie,  and  saying  he  was  in  the  employ  of  young  Laurie 
Shafton  and  had  a  special  private  message  from  the  young 
man  to  his  mother.  It  was  not  long  before  a  peevish 
elderly  voice  in  his  ear  said : 

''  Well?    Mrs.  Shafton  at  the  phone." 

And  Link  sailed  in: 

"  Mrs.  Shafton,  I  got  a  message  from  your  son,  a  very 
private  message.  He  said,  would  you  please  send  your 
maid  out  of  the  room  first  before  I  told  you?  " 

She  seemed  annoyed  and  hesitant  at  this,  but 
finally  complied : 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Shafton,  you  don't  need  to  get  worried  at 
what  I'm  tellin'  you.  Your  son  ain't  dead,  nor  nothing 
like  that  you  know,  but  he's  just  met  with  a  little  accident. 
No,  now,  wait  a  minute  till  I  tell  you.  You  don't  need  to 
get  excited  ner  nothing.  If  you  just  keep  calm  an'  do  as  I 
tell  you  it'll  all  come  out  right  in  the  end — " 

He  could  tell  by  her  voice  that  she  was  much  excited 
and  that  so  far  his  scheme  was  working  well.  If  he  could 
only  pull  the  rest  off!  He  winked  one  eye  jauntily  at 
Shorty  who  was  standing  wide-mouthed,  bulging-eyed 
listening,  and  went  on 

"No,  he  didn't  have  no  collision,  ma'am,  he  just  got 
kidnapped  you  see.  And  not  wanting  to  get  found  out, 
natchelly  the  kidnappers  give  him  a  little  dope  to  keep  his 
mouth  shut  f er  a  while.  What's  that  ?  Who'm  I  ?  Well, 
now,  Mrs.  Shafton,  that's  tellin,'  ain't  it?  I  wouldn't  want 
to  go  so  far  as  that  'thout  I  was  sure  of  your  cooperation. 
What's  that  ?  You'll  reward  me  ?  Oh,  thanks,  that's  what 
I  was  figgering  about.  You  see  I'm  in  rather  of  a  hole 
myself.  That's  what.  You  see,  much  against  my  will 
I  was  one  of  the  kidnappers  myself  ma'am.  Yes  ma'am, 
much  against  my  will !  You  see  I'm  a  farmer's  son  myself. 


148  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

good  an'  honest  and  respectable.  Never  had  nothin'  to  do 
with  such  doin's  in  my  life,  my  word  of  honor,  lady.  But 
I  come  to  town  just  to  look  around  an'  have  a  bit  of  fun 
an'  I  got  in  with  a  bad  lot,  an'  they  pract'cally  compelled 
me  to  assist  'em  in  this  here  kidnappin.'  Oh,  I  didn't  do 
nothin',  jest  helped  to  carry  him —  Oh,  ma'am,  it  ain't  that 
bad.  He's  still  livin'  an'  he'll  be  awwright  if  you  just  he'p 
me  to  get  him  away  'thout  their  knowin'.  Yes  ma'am.  I'm 
honest.  I'm  offerin'  to  help  you.  You  see,  when  I  see  him 
layin'  there  on  the  bed —  Oh,  yes,  he's  on  a  bed,  I  ain't 
sayin'  how  comfortable  it  is,  but  it's  a  bed,  an'  he  ain't 
sufferin'  now, — but  of  course  if  they  don't  get  what  they 
want  they  may  put  him  to  the  torture  jest  to  get  more 
outta  you  all — No,  ma'am  don't  scream  that  way  ur  I'll 
have  to  hang  up.  This  is  on  the  q.  t.  you  know.  What  ? 
You  don't  understand?  Why,  I  was  sayin'  you  mustn't 
let  a  soul  know  what's  happened.  Not  a  soul.  If  it  should 
get  out  an'  his  kidnappers  should  find  it  out  they'd  kill 
him  easy  as  a  fly  an'  no  mistake.  You  gotta  go  slow  on 
this.  Yes,  lady,  they're  desperate  characters,  Fm  sayin' 
it!  an'  the  sooner  you  get  your  son  outta  their  ban's  the 
better  fer  his  future,  lady,  fer  even  if  he  should  escape 
after  they'd  been  found  out  they'd  probably  lame  him  fer 
life  or  put  out  his  eyes  or  some  little  old  thing  like  that, 
so  you  see,  lady,  you  gotta  talk  low  an'  take  care  you  don't 
let  on  to  no  one.  If  you  should  turn  yella  it  ud  be  all  up 
with  little  Laurie  an'  no  mistake,  so  keep  yer  mouth  shet 
an'  do  as  I  tell  ye,  and  I'll  help  ye  out.  Yes,  as  I  was  sayin' 
when  I  seen  little  Laurie  layin'  there  so  still  an'  white,  my 
conscience — There,  there,  lady,  don't  you  take  on — ^as  I 
was  sayin'  my  conscience  troubled  me,  an'  I  says,  I'm 
agonta  get  this  fella  free !  So  I  figgered  out  a  way.  You 
see  lady,  there's  two  of  us,  me'n  another  feller  set  to 
watch  'im,  an'  feed  him  dope  if  he  tries  to  wake  up,  an' 
when  I  get  feelin'  worried  about  it  I  says  to  the  other  fella 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  149 

I  was  agonta  tell  his  folks,  an'  he  says  he'll  shoot  me,  but 
I  keeps  on  tellin'  him  how  sinful  'twas  to  make  a  poor 
mother  suffer — I  gotta  mother  myself  ma'am !  Yes  ma'am 
a  good  old  mother,  an'  she  taught  me  to  be  honest,  so  I 
says  to  thother  fella,  I  says  what'll  you  take  an'  git  out, 
an'  he  says  ten  thousand  dollars,  an'  I  says,  awwright,  I'll 
get  it  fer  ya,  an'  so  now  lady,  'f  I  was  you  I'd  pay  it  right 
down  quick  'fore  he  changes  his  mind.  Cause  the  other 
fellas  they  was  goin'  to  ast  a  million,  an'  kill  'im  if  you 
didn't  fall  fer  it  right  to  oncet.  No  ma'am  I  don't  want 
nothin'  fer  myself.  I  just  want  to  go  back  to  the  old 
farm  with  a  clean  conscience.  What  ?  Oh,  yes,  I  want  the 
money  right  away,  that  is  before  mornin'.  If  we  can't  get 
him  out  before  mornin'  it  ain't  no  use,  fer  the  other 
fellas  is  comin'  back  an'  move  him  an'  we  can't  do  nothin'  ? 
What?  Where  is  he?  I  couldnt'  really  say,  lady,  it 
wouldn't  be  allowed,  an'  my  mate  he's  outside  the  tele- 
phone booth  with  a  loaded  revolver  holdin'  it  up  to  my 
head,  and  he's  listenin'  an'  ef  I  give  anythin'  away  he'd 
shoot  me  on  the  spot.  So  where  would  your  nice  lookin* 
son  be  then?  Mrs.  Shafton  hadn't  you  better — ?  That's 
right  lady,  I  knew  you'd  thank  me,  an'  yes,  now  I'll  tell  you 
what  to  do.  First  place,  how  much  money  ya  got  in  the 
house?  No,  that's  not  'nough.  That  wouldn't  do  a  mite 
of  good,  it  wouldn't  be  a  drop  in  the  bucket.  Ain't  ya  got 
any  bonds,  ur  jewels  or  papers  ?  Yes,  that's  the  talk !  Now; 
yer  shoutin' — ^Yes,  lady,  that  would  do.  No, — not  that. 
You  gotta  have  something  that  he  can't  get  caught  with.  I 
know  you're  loosin'  a  lot  lady,  but  you  got  lots  left,  and 
what's  money  an'  jewels  compared  to  your  only  son, 
ma'am?  Why,  think  how  he  used  to  look  when  he 
wore  little  white  dresses  an'  used  to  come  to  have  his  head 
kissed  when  he  fell  down !  Wasn't  he  sweet,  lady,  and  he 
had  a  pair  of  little  blue  shoes  didn't  he?     I  thought  so. 


150  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Say,  lady,  you'r  the  right  sort !  I  knowed  you  must  be  to 
be  a  mother  of  such  a  handsome  son.  Now,  lady,  could 
you  hustle  those  things  together  you  spoke  of  an'  any 
more  you  may  happen  to  come  on,  and  just  put  'em  in  a 
little  box  er  basket,  and  tie  a  string  on  'em  an'  let  'em 
down  outta  yer  winda?  It's  all  I'll  ask.  Let  'em  down 
outta  yer  winda.  Then  you  turn  out  the  lights  and  turn 
'em  on  again  three  times  real  quick,  out  an'  in,  an'  that'll 
be  the  signal.  An'  after  ten  minutes  you  look  out  yer 
front  winda  an'  off  as  fur  as  ye  can  see  an'  I'll  flash  a  signal 
light  to  ya  jest  to  let  ya  know  it's  all  right.  An'  I'll 
promise  you  on  my  word  of  honor  that  you'll  hear  your 
own  son's  voice  over  the  telephone  good  an'  early  to- 
morrow mornin'  an'  no  mistake.  But  lady,  ye  mustn't 
turn  yella  an'  holler  ner  nothin  or  we'll  fling  yer  jewels  an' 
paper  back  in  yer  yard  an*  let  yer  son  die.  We  ain't  goin' 
to  run  no  chances  ye  know.  You  ain't  got  no  dogs,  have 
ye?  And  which  side  is  yer  room  on?  The  front?  Yes, 
an'  which  is  the  easiest  way  to  get  to  the  house  without 
comin'  near  the  servants'  quarters  ?  To  the  right  ?  Yes,  I 
see.  An'  you'll  play  straight  ?  All  right  lady.  Your  son's 
as  good  as  home  now.  I'll  give  you  just  one  hour  by  the 
clock  to  get  yer  stuff  together,  but  mind  ya,  if  ya  weaken 
an'  try  to  put  the  p'lice  onto  me,  I  got  a  way  to  signal  my 
pal,  an'  he'll  have  that  boy  o'  yours  shot  within  five  minutes 
after  you  call  fer  help?  Understand?  Oh,  yes,  I  know 
lady,  you  wouldn't  do  no  such  a  thing,  but  my  pal  he  made 
me  say  that.  He's  a  desperate  man  lady,  an'  there  ain't  no 
use  toyin'  with  him.  All  right.  One  hour.  It's  just 
quarter  to  'leven.    Good-bye !  " 

Link  came  lounging  out  of  the  booth  mopping  his 
wet  forehead: 

"  She  fell  fer  it  all  right,"  he  said  jerking  a  wan  smile, 
but  he  looked  as  though  the  last  of  his  own  nerve  had  gone 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  151 

into  the  telephone  receiver.  "  She  wanted  to  put  in  an 
extra  check,  but  I  told  her  we'd  be  generous  and  let  it  go 
at  what  she  could  find  without  her  name  on  it.  Gosh, 
what  fools  some  wommen  are !  I  thought  I  got  her  num- 
ber all  right,  a  whimperin'  fool !  A  whimperin*  little  old 
fool!  Now,  Shorty,  all  we  gotta  do  is  collect  the  boodle. 
It's  up  to  you  to  watch  outside  the  hedge.  I'm  takin'  all 
the  risks  this  time  m'self,  an'  I'm  goin'  to  ferret  my  way 
under  that  there  madam's  winder.  You  stay  outside  and 
gimme  the  signal.  Ef  you  get  cold  feet  an'  leave  me  in 
the  lurch  you  don't  get  no  dividends,  See  ?  " 


XIII 


Billy,  with  that  fine  inner  sense  that  some  boys  have, 
perceived  that  there  was  deep  emotion  of  a  silent  sort  be- 
tween the  minister  and  Mark,  and  he  drifted  away  from 
them  unnoticed,  back  toward  the  car. 

"  Billy ! ''  whispered  Lynn,  rising  from  the  upper  step 
in  the  shadow  of  the  church. 

The  boy  turned  with  a  quick  silent  stride  and  was 
beside  her: 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,  Miss  Lynn,  I  really  couldn't — 
There  was  something  very  important —  Cart —  That  is — 
Cart  needed  me !  I  knew  you'd  understand." 

"  Yes,  Billy,  I  understand.  Somehow  I  knew  you  were 
with  Mark.  It's  good  to  have  a  friend  like  you,  Billy ! " 
She  smiled  wanly. 

Billy  looked  up  half  proud,  half  ashamed : 

"  It's  nothin' !  "  said  Billy,  "  I  just  had  to.  Cart- 
well,  I  had  to." 

"  I  know,  Billy —  Mark  needed  you.  And  Billy, —  if 
there's  any  trouble — any — any — that  is  if  Mark  ever  needs 
you,  you'll  stick  by  him  I  know?  " 

"  Sure !  "  said  Billy  looking  up  with  a  sudden  searching 
glance,  "  Sure,  I'll  stick  by  him!  " 

"  And  if  there's  anything — anything  that  ought  to  be 
done — why — I  mean  anything  we  could  do — Billy, — you'll 
let  us  know  ?  " 

"  Sure,  I  will !  "  There  was  utmost  comprehension  in 
the  firm  young  voice.  Billy  kicked  his  heel  softly  into  the 
grass  by  the  walk,  looking  down  embarrassedly.  He  half 
started  on  toward  the  car  and  then  turning  back  he  said 
suddenly,  "  Why  doncha  go  see  Cherry,  Miss  Lynn?  " 

"  Cherry?  "  she  said  startled,  her  face  growing  white 
in  the  darkness. 

152 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  153 

The  boy  nodded,  stuffing  his  hands  deep  into  his 
pockets  and  regarding  her  with  sudden  boldness.  He 
opened  his  Hps  as  if  he  would  speak  further,  then  thought 
better  of  it  and  closed  them  again  firmly,  dropping  his  eyes 
as  if  he  were  done  with  the  topic.  There  was  a  bit  of 
silence,  then  Lynn  said  gravely: 

"  Perhaps  I  will,"  and  "  Thank  you,  Billy." 

Billy  felt  as  though  the  balm  of  Gilead  had  suddenly 
been  poured  over  his  tired  heart. 

''  G'night !  "  he  murmured,  feeling  that  he  had  put  his 
troubles  into  capable  hands  that  would  care  for  them  as 
he  TJfould  himself. 

There  had  been  no  word  spoken  between  the  minister 
and  Mark  as  they  went  together  toward  the  parsonage, 
but  there  had  seemed  to  each  to  be  a  great  clearing  of  the 
clouds  between  them,  and  a  tender  love  springing  anew, 
with  warm  understanding  and  sympathy.  Mark  felt  him- 
self a  boy  again,  with  the  minister's  arm  across  his 
shoulder,  and  a  strong  yearning  to  confide  in  this  under- 
standing friend,  swept  over  him.  If  there  had  been  a  quiet 
place  with  no  one  about  just  then  there  is  no  telling  what 
might  have  happened  to  change  the  story  from  that  point 
on,  but  their  silent  intercourse  was  rudely  interrupted  by 
the  voice  of  Laurie  Shaft  on  breaking  in : 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Mr.  Severn,  who  did  you  say  that  man 
was  that  could  fix  cars?  Fd  like  to  call  him  up  and  see  if 
he  doesn't  happen  to  have  some  bearings  now.  He  surely . 
must  have  returned  by  this  time  hasn't  he?  I'd  like 
to  take  these  girls  a  spin.  The  moon  is  perfectly  gorgeous. 
We  could  go  in  the  lady's  car,  only  it  is  smaller  and  I 
thought  I'd  ask  your  daughter  to  go  along." 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  minister  suddenly  brought  back  into 
the  world  of  trivial  things?  "Why,  this  is  Mr,  Carter,  Mr. 
Shafton.    He  can  speak  for  himself." 


154  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Mark  stood  with  lifted  head  and  his  princely  look  re- 
garding the  interloper  with  cold  eyes.  He  acknowledged 
the  introduction  almost  haughtily,  and  listened  to  the  story 
of  the  burnt  out  bearings  without  a  change  of  countenance, 
then  said  gravely : 

"  I  think  I  can  fix  you  up  in  the  morning." 

"  Not  to-night  ? "  asked  the  spoiled  Laurie  with  a 
frown  of  displeasure. 

"  Not  to-night/'  said  Mark  with  a  finality  that  some- 
how forbade  even  a  Shafton  from  further  parley. 

Opal  had  regarded  Mark  from  the  vine  covered  porch 
as  he  stood  with  bared  head  in  the  moonlight  and  clattered 
down  on  her  tiny  patent  leather  pumps  to  be  introduced. 
She  came  and  stood  hanging  pertly  on  Laurie  Shafton's 
arm  as  if  he  were  her  private  property,  with  her  large 
limpid  eyes  fixed  upon  the  stranger,  this  prince  of  a  man 
that  had  suddenly  turned  up  in  this  funny  little  coun- 
try dump. 

She  put  her  giddy  little  tongue  into  the  conversation, 
something  about  how  delicious  it  would  be  to  take  a  little 
ride  to-night,  implying  that  Mark  might  go  along  if  he 
would  fix  up  the  car.  She  was  dressed  in  a  slim,  clinging 
frock  of  some  rich  Persian  gauzy  silk  stuff,  heavy  with 
beads  in  dull  barbaric  patterns,  and  girt  with  a  rope  of  jet 
and  jade.  Her  slim  white  neck  rose  like  a  stem  from 
the  transparent  neck  line,  and  a  beaded  band  about  her 
forehead  held  the  fluffy  hair  in  place  about  her  pretty  dark 
little  head.  She  wore  long  jade  earrings  which  nearly 
touched  the  white  shoulders,  and  gave  her  the  air  of  an 
Egyptian  princess.  She  was  very  gorgeous,  and  unusual 
even  in  the  moonlight,  and  she  knew  it,  yet  this  strange 
young  man  gave  her  one  cold  scrutinizing  glance  and 
turned  away. 

"FU  see  you  again  in  the  morning,  Mr.  Severn,"  he 
said,  and  wringing  the  minister's  hand  silently,  he  went 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  155 

back  across  the  lawn.  The  spell  was  broken  and  the  min- 
ister knew  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  follow.  Mark  would 
say  no  more  of  his  trouble  tonight. 

It  was  so  that  Lynn,  coming  swiftly  from  her  shadow, 
with  troubled  thoughts,  came  face  to  face  with  Mark : 

He  stopped  suddenly  as  if  something  had  struck  him. 

**Oh,  Mark!"  she  breathed  softly,  and  put  out 
her  hand. 

He  made  a  swift  motion  away  from  her,  and 
said  quickly : 

"Don't  touch  me,  Marilyn, — I  am — not — worthy f 

Then  quickly  turning  he  sprang  into  his  car  and  started 
the  engine. 

The  minister  stood  in  the  moonlight  looking  sadly  after 
the  wayward  boy  whom  he  had  loved  for  years. 

Lynn  came  swiftly  toward  her  father,  scarcely  seeing 
the  two  strangers  ?  She  had  a  feeling  that  he  needed  com- 
forting. But  the  minister,  not  noticing  her  approach, 
had  turned  and  was  hurrying  into  the  house  by  the 
side  entrance. 

"  Come  on  girls,  let's  have  a  little  excitement,"  cried 
Laurie  Shafton  gaily,  "How  about  some  music?  There's 
a  piano  in  the  house  I  see,  let's  boom  her  up !  " 

He  made  a  sudden  dive  and  swooped  an  arm  intimately 
about  each  girl's  waist,  starting  them  violently  toward  the 
steps,  forgetting  the  lame  ankle  that  was  supposed  to  make 
him  somewhat  helpless. 

The  sudden  unexpected  action  took  Marilyn  unaware, 
and  before  she  could  get  her  footing  or  do  anything  about 
it  she  caught  a  swift  vision  of  a  white  face  in  the  passing 
car.  Mark  had  seen  the  whole  thing!  She  drew  back 
quickly,  indignantly  flinging  the  offending  arm  from  her 
waist,  and  hurried  after  her  father ;  but  it  was  too  late  to 
undo  the  impression  that  Mark  must  have  had.  He  had 
passed  by, 


156  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Inside  the  door  she  stopped  short,  stamping  her  white 
shod  foot  with  quick  anger,  her  face  white  with  fury,  her 
eyes  fairly  blazing.  If  Laurie  had  seen  her  now  he  would 
scarcely  have  compared  her  to  a  saint.  To  think  that  on 
this  day  of  trouble  and  perplexity  this  gay  insolent 
stranger  should  dare  to  intrude  and  presume!  And 
before  Mark! 

But  a  low  spoken  word  of  her  mother's  reached  her 
from  the  dining-room,  turning  aside  her  anger : 

"  I  hate  to  ask  Lynn  to  take  her  into  her  room.  Such 
a  queer  girl !  It  seems  like  a  desecration !  Lynn's 
lovely  room ! " 

"  She  had  no  right  to  put  herself  upon  us ! ''  said  the 
father  in  troubled  tones.  **She  is  as  far  from  our  daughter 
as  heaven  is  from  the  pit.    Who  is  she,  anyway  ?  " 

"  He  merely  introduced  her  as  his  friend  Opal." 

"  Is  there  nothing  else  we  can  do?  " 

"  We  might  give  her  our  room,  but  it  would  take  some 
time  to  put  it  in  order  for  a  guest.  There  would  be  a  good 
many  things  to  move — ^and  it  would  be  rather  awkward  in 
the  morning,  cots  in  the  living-room.  I  suppose  Lynn 
could  come  in  with  me  and  you  sleep  on  a  cot —  I  *' 

"  Yes,  that's  exactly  it !    Do  that.    I  don't  mind." 

"I  suppose  we'll  have  to,"  sighed  the  mother,  "  for  I 
know  Lynn  would  hate  it  having  a  stranger  among  her 
pretty  intimate  things — !  " 

Marilyn  sprang  up  and  burst  into  the  dining-room : 

"  Mother !  Did  you  think  I  was  such  a  spoiled  baby 
that  I  couldn't  be  courteous  to  a  stranger  even  if  she  was 
a  detestable  little  vamp?  You're  not  to  bother  about  it 
any  more.  She'll  come  into  my  room  with  me  of  course. 
You  didn't  expect  me  to  sail  through  life  without  any 
sacrifices  at  all  did  you,  Motherie?  Suppose  I  had  gone 
to  Africa  as  I  almost  did  last  year?  Don't  you  fancy 
there'd  have  been  some  things  harder  than  sharing  my 
twin  beds  with  a  disagreeable  stranger  ?    Besides,  remem- 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  157 

ber  those  angels  unaware  that  the  Bible  talks  about.  I 
guess  this  is  up  to  me,  so  put  away  your  frets  and  come 
on  in.  It's  time  we  had  worship  and  ended  this  day.  But 
I  guess  those  two  self-imposed  boarders  of  ours  need  a 
little  religion  first.     Come  on !  " 

She  dropped  a  kiss  on  each  forehead  lightly  and  fled 
into  the  other  room. 

"  What  a  girl  she  is ! "  said  her  father  tenderly  put- 
ting his  hand  gently  on  the  spot  she  had  kissed,  "A  great 
blessing  in  our  home !   Dear  child !  " 

The  mother  said  nothing,  but  her  eyes  were  filled  with 
a  great  content. 

Marilyn,  throwing  aside  her  hat  and  appearing  in  the 
front  door  called  pleasantly  to  the  two  outside : 

"  Well,  Fm  ready  for  the  music.  You  can  come  in 
when  you  wish." 

They  sauntered  in  presently,  but  Marilyn  was  already 
at  the  piano  playing  softly  a  bit  from  the  Angel  Chorus, 
a  snatch  of  HandeFs  Largo,  a  Chopin  Nocturne,  one  of 
Mendelssohn's  songs  without  words.  The  two  came  in 
hilariously,  the  young  man  pretending  to  lean  heavily  on 
the  girl,  and  finding  much  occasion  to  hold  her  hands,  a 
performance  to  which  she  seemed  to  be  not  at  all  averse. 
They  came  and  stood  beside  the  piano. 

"  Now,"  said  Opal  gaily,  when  Marilyn  came  to  the 
end  of  another  Nocturne  :  "  That's  enough  gloom.  Give 
us  a  little  jazz  and  Laurie  and  I'll  dance  awhile." 

Marilyn  let  her  hands  fall  with  a  soft  crash  on  the  keys 
and  looked  up.  Then  her  face  broke  up  into  a  smile,  as  if 
she  had  put  aside  an  unpleasant  thought  and  determined 
to  be  friendly : 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  said  firmly,  "  We  don't  play  jazz,  my 
piano  and  I.  I  never  learned  to  love  it,  and  besides  I'm 
tired.  I've  been  playing  all  day  you  know.  You  will  ex- 
cuse anything  more  I'm  sure.  And  it's  getting  late  for 
Sabbath  Valley.    Did  you  have  any  plans  for  to-night?  " 


158  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Opal  stared,  but  Maril}^!  stared  back  pleasantly,  and 
Laurie  watched  them  both. 

"Why,  no,  not  exactly,"  drawled  Opal,  "I  thought 
Laurie  would  be  hospitable  enough  to  look  me  up  a  place. 
Where  is  your  best  hotel?    Is  it  possible  at  all?  " 

"We  haven't  a  sign  of  a  hotel,"  said  Marilyn  smiling. 

"  Oh,  horrors,  nothing  but  a  boarding  house  I  sup- 
pose.    Is  it  far  away?  " 

"  Not  even  a  boarding  house." 

*'Oh,  heavens !    Well,  where  do  you  stop  then?  " 

"  We  don't  stop,  we  live,"  said  Marilyn  smiling.  "  I'm 
afraid  the  only  thing  you  can  do  unless  you  decide  to  go 
back  home  tonight  is  to  share  my  room  with  me, — I  have 
twin  beds  you  know  and  can  make  you  quite  comfortable. 
I  often  have  a  college  friend  to  stay  with  me  for  a 
few  weeks." 

Opal  stared  round  eyed.  This  was  a  college  girl  then, 
hidden  away  in  a  hole  like  this.  Not  even  an  extra  spare 
room  in  the  house ! 

"  Oh  my  gracious !  "  she  responded  bluntly,  "  I'm  not 
used  to  rooming  with  some  one,  but  it's  very  kind  of  you 
I'm  sure." 

Marilyn's  cheeks  grew  red  and  her  eyes  flashed  but  she 
whirled  back  to  her  keyboard  and  began  to  play,  this  time 
a  sweet  old  hymn,  and  while  she  was  playing  and  before 
the  two  strangers  had  thought  of  anything  to  say,  Mr. 
Severn  came  in  with  the  Book  in  his  hand,  followed  by  his 
wife,  who  drew  a  small  rocker  and  sat  down  beside  him. 

Marilyn  paused  and  the  minister  opened  his  Bible  and 
looked  around  on  them: 

"  I  hope  you'll  join  us  in  our  evening  worship,"  he 
said  pleasantly  to  the  two  guests,  and  then  while  they  still 
stared  he  began  to  read :  "Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled : 
ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  Me,"  on  through  the 
beautiful  chapter. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  159 

It  was  as  Greek  to  the  strangers,  who  heard  and  did 
not  comprehend,  and  they  looked  about  amazed  on  this 
Httle  family  with  dreamy  eyes  all  listening  as  if  it  meant 
great  treasures  to  them.  It  was  as  if  they  saw  the  Severns 
for  the  first  time  and  realized  them  as  individuals,  as  a 
force  in  the  world,  something  complete  in  itself,  a  family 
that  was  not  doing  the  things  they  did,  not  having  the 
things  considered  essential  to  life,  nor  trying  to  go  after 
any  of  the  things  that  life  had  to  offer,  but  living  their  own 
beautiful  lives  in  their  own  way  without  regard  to  the 
world,  and  actually  enjoying  it!  That  was  the  queer  part 
about  it.  They  were  not  dull  nor  bored!  They  were 
happy !  They  could  get  out  from  an  environment  like  this 
if  they  choose,  and  they  did  not.  They  wanted  to  stay  here. 
It  was  incredible ! 

Laurie  got  out  his  cigarette  case,  selected  a  cigarette, 
got  out  his  match  box,  selected  a  match,  and  all  but  lit  it. 
Then  somehow  there  seemed  to  be  something  incongruous 
about  the  action  and  he  looked  around.  No  one  was  see- 
ing him  but  Opal,  and  she  was  laughing  at  him.  He 
flushed,  put  back  the  match  and  the  cigarette,  and  folded 
his  arms,  trying  to  look  at  home  in  this  strange  new  en- 
vironment. But  the  girl  Marilyn^s  eyes  were  far  away  as 
if  she  were  drinking  strange  knowledge  at  a  secret 
invisible  source,  and  she  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
their  presence. 

Then  the  family  knelt.  How  odd!  Knelt  down,  each 
where  he  had  been  sitting,  and  the  minister  began  to  talk 
to  God.  It  did  not  impress  the  visitors  as  prayer.  They 
involuntarily  looked  around  to  see  to  whom  he  was  talking. 
Laurie  reddened  again  and  dropped  his  face  into  his  hands. 
He  had  met  Opal's  eyes  and  she  was  shaking  with  mirth, 
but  somehow  it  affected  him  rawly.  Suddenly  he  felt  im- 
pelled to  gtt  to  his  knees.  He  seemed  conspicuous  reared 
up  in  a  chair,  and  he  slid  noiselessly  to  the  floor  with 


160  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

a  wrench  of  the  hurt  ankle  that  caused  him  to  draw  his 
brows  in  a  frown.  Opal,  left  alone  in  this  room  full 
of  devout  backs,  grew  suddenly  grave.  She  felt  almost 
afraid.  She  began  to  think  of  Saybrook  Inn  and  the  man 
lying  there  stark  and  dead !  The  man  she  had  danced  with 
but  a  week  before !  Dead !  And  for  her !  She  cringed,  and 
crouched  down  in  her  chair,  till  her  beaded  frock  swept 
the  polished  floor  in  a  little  tinkley  sound  that  seemed  to 
echo  all  over  the  room,  and  before  she  knew  it  her  fear 
of  being  alone  had  brought  her  to  her  knees.  To  be  like 
the  rest  of  the  world — ^to  be  even  more  alike  than  anybody 
else  in  the  world,  that  had  always  been  her  ambition.  The 
motive  of  her  life  now  brought  her  on  her  knees  because 
others  were  there  and  she  was  afraid  to  sit  above  lest  their 
God  should  come  walking  by  and  she  should  see  Him  and 
die !  She  did  not  know  she  put  it  that  way  to  her  soul,  but 
she  did,  in  the  secret  recesses  of  her  inner  dwelling. 

Before  they  had  scarcely  got  to  their  knees  and  while 
that  awkward  hush  was  yet  upon  them  the  room  was  filled 
with  the  soft  sound  of  singing,  started  by  the  minister, 
perhaps,  or  was  it  his  wife?  It  was  unaccompanied, 
"  Abide  with  me,  Fast  falls  the  eventide,  the  darkness 
deepens.  Lord  with  me  abide ! "  Even  Laurie  joined  an 
erratic  high  tenor  humming  in  on  the  last  verse,  and  Opal 
shuddered  as  the  words  were  sung,  "  Hold  thou  thy  cross 
before  my  closing  eyes,  Shine  through  the  dark  and  point 
me  to  the  skies."  Death  was  a  horrible  thing  to  her.  She 
never  wanted  to  be  reminded  of  death.  It  was  a  long,  long 
way  off  to  her.  She  always  drowned  the  thought  in  what- 
ever amusement  was  at  hand. 

The  song  died  away  just  in  time  or  Opal  might  have 
screamed.  She  was  easily  wrought  up.  And  then  this 
strange  anomoly  of  a  girl,  her  young  hostess,  turned  to  her 
with  a  natural  smile  just  as  if  nothing  extraordinary  had 
been  going  on  and  said : 

"  Now,  shall  we  say  good-night  and  go  upstairs  ?     I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  161 

know  you  must  be  tired  after  your  long  ride,  and  I  know 
father  has  had  a  hard  day  and  would  like  to  get  the  house 
settled  for  the  night." 

Opal  arose  with  a  wild  idea  of  screaming  and  running 
away,  but  she  caught  the  twinkle  of  Laurie's  eyes  and 
knew  he  was  laughing  at  her.  So  she  relaxed  into  her 
habitual  languor,  and  turning  haughtily  requested: 

"  Would  you  send  your  maid  to  the  cyar  for  my 
bag,  please  ?  " 

Before  anyone  could  respond  the  minister  stepped  to 
the  door  with  a  courteous  "  Certainly,"  and  presently 
returned  with  a  great  blue  leather  affair  with  silver  mount- 
ings, and  himself  carried  it  up  the  stairs. 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  Marilyn  met  him,  and  put 
her  head  on  his  shoulder  hiding  her  face  in  his  coat,  and 
murmured,  "  Oh,  Daddy!  " 

Severn  smoothed  her  soft  hair  and  murmured  gently : 
"  There,  there  little  girl !  Pray !  Pray!  Our  Father  knows 
what's  best ! "  but  neither  of  them  were  referring  to  the 
matter  of  the  unwelcome  guests. 

Mrs.  Severn  was  solicitous  about  asking  if  there  was 
anything  the  guest  would  like,  a  glass  of  milk,  or  some 
fruit?  And  Opal  declined  curtly,  made  a  little  moue  at 
Shafton  and  followed  up  the  stairs. 

**  Well !  "  she  said  rudely,  as  she  entered  the  lovely 
room  and  stared  around,  ''so  this  is  your  room !"  Then  she 
walked  straight  to  the  wall  on  the  other  side  of  the  room 
where  hung  a  framed  photograph  of  Mark  at  twelve  years 
^old;  Mark,  with  all  the  promise  of  his  princely  bearing 
already  upon  him. 

"  So  this  is  the  perfect  icicle  of  a  stunning  young 
prince  that  was  down  on  the  lawn,  is  it  ?  I  thought  there 
w^as  some  reason  for  your  frantic  indifference  to  men. 
Is  his  name  Billy  or  Mark?  Laurie  said  it  was  either  Billy 
or  Mark,  he  wasn't  sure  which.'* 


11 


XIV 

Mark  Carter  and  Billy  as  they  rode  silently  down  the 
little  street  toward  Aunt  Saxon's  cottage  did  not  speak. 
They  did  not  need  to  speak,  these  two.  They  had  utmost 
confidence  in  one  another,  they  were  both  troubled,  and 
had  no  solution  to  offer  for  the  difficulty.  That  was  enough 
to  seal  any  wise  mouth.  Only  at  the  door  as  Billy  climbed 
out  Mark  leaned  toward  him  and  said  in  a  low  growl : 

"You're  all  right.  Kid!  You're  the  best  friend  a 
man  ever  had !    I  appreciate  what  you  did !  " 

"  Aw !  "  squirmed  Billy,  pulling  down  his  cap,  "  That's 
awright !  See  you  t'morra'  Cart !  S'long ! "  And 
Billy  stalked  slowly  down  the  street  remembering  for  the 
first  time  that  he  had  his  aunt  yet  to  reckon  with. 

With  the  man's  way  of  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns 
he  stormed  in: 

"  Aw,  Gee !  I'm  tired !  Now,  I  'spo'se  you'll  bawl  me 
out  fer  a  nour,  an'  I  couldn't  help  it !  You  always  jump 
on  me  worst  when  I  ain't  to  blame !  " 

Aunt  Saxon  turned  her  pink  damp  face  toward  the 
prodigal  and  broke  into  a  plaintive  little  smile : 

"  Why,  Willie,  is  that  you  ?  I'm  real  glad  you've  come. 
I've  kept  supper  waiting.  We've  got  cold  pressed  chicken, 
and  I  stirred  up  some  waffles.  I  thought  you'd  like  some- 
thing hot." 

Billy  stared,  but  the  reaction  was  too  much.  In  order 
to  keep  the  sudden  tears  back  he  roared  out  crossly : 

"  Well,  I  ain't  hungry.  You  hadn't  oughtta  have 
waited.  Pressed  chicken,  did  ya  say?  Aw  Gee!  Just 
when  I  ain't  hungry!  Ef  that  ain't  luck!  An'  waffles! 
You  oughtta  known  better!  But  bring  'em  on.  I'll  try 
what  I  can  do,"  and  he  flung  himself  down  in  his  chair  at 
102 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  163 

the  table  and  rested  a  torn  elbow  on  the  clean  cloth,  and 
his  weary  head  on  a  grimy  hand.  And  then  when  she  put 
the  food  before  him,  without  even  suggesting  that  he  go 
first  and  wash,  he  became  suddenly  conscious  of  his  dis- 
hevelled condition  and  went  and  washed  his  hands  and  face 
without  being  sent!  Then  he  returned  and  did  large  jus- 
tice to  the  meal,  his  aunt  eyeing  furtively  with  watery 
smiles,  and  a  sigh  of  relief  now  and  then.  At  last  she 
ventured  a  word  by  way  of  conversation : 

"  How  is  the  man  on  the  mountain?'*  Billy  looked  up 
sharply,  startled  out  of  his  usual  stolidity  with  which  he 
had  learned  from  early  youth  to  mask  all  interest  or 
emotion  from  an  officious  and  curious  world. 

Miss  Saxon  smiled: 

"  Mrs.  Carter  told  me  how  you  and  Mark  went  to  help 
a  man  on  the  mountain.    It  was  nice  of  you  Billy." 

**Oh!  that!''  said  Billy  scornfully,  rallying  to  screen 
his  agitation,  "Oh,  he's  better.  He  got  up  and  went  home. 
Oh,  it  wasn't  nothing.  I  just  went  and  helped  Cart.  Sorry 
not  to  get  back  to  Sunday  School  Saxy,  but  I  didn't  think 
'twould  take  so  long." 

After  that  most  unusual  explanation,  conversation 
languished,  while  Billy  consumed  the  final  waffle,  after 
which  he  remarked  gravely  that  if  she  didn't  mind  he'd  go 
to  bed.  He  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  stair  with  a  new 
thought  fulness  to  ask  if  she  wanted  any  wood  brought 
in  for  morning,  and  she  cried  all  the  time  she  was  washing 
up  the  few  dishes  at  his  consideration  of  her.  Perhaps, 
as  Mrs.  Severn  had  told  her,  there  was  going  to  come  a 
change  and  Billy  was  really  growing  more  manly. 

Billy,  as  he  made  his  brief  preparation  for  bed  told 
himself  that  he  couldn't  sleep,  he  had  too  much  to  worry 
about  and  dope  out,  but  his  head  had  no  more  than  touched 
the  pillow  till  he  was  dead  to  the  world.  Whatever  came 
on  the  morrow,  whatever  had  happened  the  day  before, 


164  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Billy  had  to  sleep  it  out  before  he  was  fit  to  think.  And 
Billy  slept. 

But  up  the  street  in  the  Carter  house  a  light  burned 
late  in  Mark's  window,  and  Mark  himself,  his  mother 
soothed  and  comforted  and  sent  to  sleep,  sat  up  in  his  big 
leather  chair  that  his  mother  had  given  him  on  the  last 
birthday  before  he  left  home, and  stared  at  the  wall  opposite 
where  hung  the  picture  of  a  little  girl  in  a  white  dress  with 
floating  hair  and  starry  eyes.  In  his  face  there  grew  a 
yearning  and  a  hopelessness  that  was  beyond  anything  to 
describe.  It  was  like  a  face  that  is  suffering  pain  of  fire 
and  studying  to  be  brave,  yet  burns  and  suffers  and  is  not 
consumed.  That  was  the  look  in  Mark  Carter's  eyes  and 
around  his  finely  chiseled  lips.  Once,  when  he  was  in  that 
mood  travelling  on  a  railway  carriage,  a  woman  across  the 
aisle  had  called  her  husband's  attention  to  him.  "  Look 
at  that  man !"  she  said,  "He  looks  like  a  lost  soul !  " 

For  a  long  time  he  sat  and  stared  at  the  picture,  with- 
out a  motion  of  his  body,  or  without  even  the  flicker  of  an 
eyelash,  as  if  he  were  set  there  to  see  the  panorama  of 
his  thoughts  pass  before  him  and  see  them  through  to  the 
bitter  end.  His  eyes  were  deep  and  gray.  In  boyhood 
they  had  held  a  wistful  expectation  of  enchanting  things 
and  doing  great  deeds  of  valor.  They  were  eyes  that 
dream,  and  believe,  and  are  happy  even  suffering,  so 
faith  remain  and  love  be  not  denied.  But  faith  had  been 
struck  a  deadly  blow  in  these  eyes  now,  and  love  had  been 
cast  away.  The  eyes  looked  old  and  tired  and  unbelieving, 
yet  still  searching,  searching,  though  seeing  dimly,  and  yet 
more  dim  every  day,  searching  for  the  dreams  of  child- 
hood and  knowing  they  would  never  come  again.  Feeling 
sure  that  they  might  not  come  again  because  he  had  shut 
the  door  against  them  with  his  own  hand,  and  by  his  own 
act  cut  the  bridge  on  which  they  might  have  crossed  from 
heaven  to  him. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIKE  165 

A  chastened  face,  humbled  by  suffering  when  alone, 
but  proud  and  unyielding  still  before  others.  Mark  Carter 
looking  over  his  past  knew  just  where  he  had  started  down 
this  road  of  pain,  just  where  he  had  made  the  first  mistake, 
sinned  the  first  sin,  chosen  pride  instead  of  humility,  the 
devil  instead  of  God.  And  to-night  Mark  Carter  sat  and 
faced  the  immediate  future  and  saw  what  was  before  him. 
As  if  a  painted  map  lay  out  there  on  the  wall  before  him, 
he  saw  the  fire  through  which  he  must  pass,  and  the  way 
it  would  scorch  the  faces  of  those  he  loved,  and  his  soul 
cried  out  in  anguish  at  the  the  sight.  Back,  back  over  his 
past  life  he  tramped  again  and  again.  Days  when  he  and 
Lynn  and  her  father  and  mother  had  gone  off  on  little 
excursions,  with  a  lunch  and  a  dog  and  a  book,  and  all  the 
world  of  nature  as  their  playground.  A  little  thought,  a 
trifling  word  that  had  been  spoken,  some  bit  of  beauty  at 
which  they  looked,  an  ant  they  watched  struggling  with 
a  crumb  too  heavy  for  it,  a  cluster  of  golden  leaves  or  the 
scarlet  berries  of  the  squaw  vine  among  the  moss.  How 
the  memories  made  his  heart  ache  as  he  thought  them  out 
of  the  past. 

And  the  books  they  had  read  aloud,  sometimes  the 
minister,  sometimes  his  wife  doing  the  reading,  but 
always  he  was  counted  into  the  little  circle  as  if  they  were 
a  family.  He  had  come  to  look  upon  them  as  his  second 
father  and  mother.    His  own  father  he  had  never  known. 

His  eyes  sought  the  bookcase  near  at  hand.  There 
they  were,  some  of  them  birthday  gifts  and  Christmases, 
and  he  had  liked  nothing  better  than  a  new  book  which  he 
always  carried  over  to  be  read  in  the  company.  Oh,  those 
years!  How  the  books  marked  their  going!  Even  way 
back  in  his  little  boyhood !  "  Hans  Brinker  or  the  Silver 
Skates.'*  He  touched  its  worn  blue  back  and  silver  letters 
scarcely  discernible.  "  The  Call  of  the  Wild."  How  he 
had  thrilled  to  the  sorrows  of  that  dog !    And  how  many 


166  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

life  lessons  had  been  wrapped  up  in  the  creature's  ex- 
perience! How  had  he  drifted  so  far  away  from  it  all? 
How  could  he  have  done  it  ?  No  one  had  pushed  him,  he 
had  gone  himself.  He  knew  the  very  moment  when  after 
days  of  agony  he  had  made  the  awful  decision,  scarcely 
believing  himself  that  he  meant  to  stick  by  it;  hoping 
against  hope  that  some  great  miracle  would  come  to  pass 
that  should  change  it  all  and  put  him  back  where  he  longed 
to  be !  How  he  had  prayed  and  prayed  in  his  childish  faith 
and  agony  for  the  miracle,  and  — it  had  not  come!  God 
had  gone  back  on  him.  He  had  not  kept  His  promises ! 
And  then  he  had  deliberately  given  up  his  faith.  He  could 
think  back  over  all  the  days  and  weeks  that  led  up  to  this. 
Just  after  the  time  when  he  had  been  so  happy;  had  felt 
that  he  was  growing  up,  and  understanding  so  many  of  the 
great  problems  of  life.  The  future  looked  rosy  before 
him,  because  he  felt  that  he  was  beginning  to  grasp  wisdom 
and  the  sweetness  of  things.  How  little  he  had  known  of 
his  own  foolishness  and  sinfulness ! 

It  was  just  after  they  had  finished  reading  and  dis- 
cussing Dante's  Vision.  What  a  wonderful  man  Mr. 
Severn  was  that  he  had  taken  two  children  and  guided 
them  through  that  beautiful,  fearful,  wonderful  story! 
How  it  had  impressed  him  then,  and  stayed  with  him  all 
these  awful  months  and  days  since  he  had  trodden  the 
same  fiery  way — ! 

He  reached  his  hand  out  for  the  book,  bound  in  dull 
blue  cloth,  the  symbol  of  its  serious  import.  He  had  not 
opened  the  book  since  they  finished  it  and  Mr.  Severn  had 
handed  it  over  to  him  and  told  him  to  keep  it,  as  he  had 
another  copy.  He  opened  the  book  as  if  it  had  been  the 
coffin  of  his  beloved,  and  there  between  the  dusty  pages 
lay  a  bit  of  blue  ribbon,  creased  with  the  pages,  and  jag- 
ged on  the  edges  because  it  had  been  cut  with  a  jack  knife. 
And  lying  smooth  upon  it  in  a  golden  curve  a  wisp  of  a 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE,  167 

yellow  curl,  just  a  section  of  one  of  Marilyn's,  the  day  she 
put  her  hair  up,  and  did  away  with  the  curls !  He  had  cut  the 
ribbon  from  the  end  of  a  great  bow  that  held  the  curls  at  the 
back  of  her  head,  and  then  he  had  laughingly  insisted  on 
a  piece  of  the  curl,  and  they  had  made  a  great  time  col- 
lecting the  right  amount  of  hair,  for  Marilyn  insisted  it 
must  not  make  a  rough  spot  for  her  to  brush.  Then  he  had 
laid  it  in  the  book,  the  finished  book,  and  shut  it  away 
carefully,  and  gone  home,  and  the  next  day, — ^the  very  next 
day,  the  thing  had  happened ! 
He  turned  the  leaves  sadly: 

"  In  midway  of  this  our  mortal  life, 
I  found  me  in  a  gloomy  wood,  astray 
Gone  from  the  path  direct: — " 

It  startled  him,  so  well  it  fitted  with  his  mood.  It  was 
himself,  and  yet  he  could  remember  well  how  he  had  felt 
for  the  writer  when  he  heard  it  first.  Terrible  to  sit  here 
to-night  and  know  it  was  himself  all  the  time  the  tale  had 
been  about !  He  turned  a  page  or  two  and  out  from  the 
text  there  stood  a  line : 

"All  hope  abandon  ye  who  enter  here." 

That  was  the  matter  with  himself.  He  had  abandoned 
all  hope.    Over  the  leaf  his  eye  ran  down  the  page  : 

"This  miserable  fate 
Suffer  the  wretched  souls  of  those  who  lived 
Without  praise  or  blame,  with  that  ill  band 
Of  angels  mixed,  who  nor  rebellious  proved 
Nor  yet  were  true  to  God,  but  for  themselves 
Were  only." 

How  well  he  remembered  the  minister's  little  com- 
ments as  he  read,    How  the  sermons  had  impressed  them- 


168  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

selves  upon  his  heart  as  he  listened,  and  yet  here  he  was, 
himself,  in  hell!  He  turned  over  the  pages  again  quickly 
unable  to  get  away  from  the  picture  that  grew  in  his  mind, 
the  vermilion  towers  and  minarets,  the  crags  and  peaks, 
the  "  little  brook,  whose  crimson'd  wave,  yet  lifts  my  hair 
with  horror,"  he  could  see  it  all  as  if  he  had  lived  there 
many  years.  Strange  he  had  not  thought  before  of  the 
likeness  of  his  Hfe  to  this.    He  read  again : 

"O  Tuscan!  thou  who  through  the  city  of  fire 
Alive  art  passing, — " 

Yes,  that  was  it.  A  City  of  Fire.  He  dwelt  in  a  City 
of  Fire!  Hell!  There  was  a  hell  on  earth  to-day  and 
mortals  entered  it  and  dwelt  there.  He  lived  in  that  City  of 
Fire  continually  now.  He  expected  to  live  there  forever.  He 
had  sinned  against  God  and  his  better  self,  and  had  begun 
his  eternal  life  on  earth.  It  was  too  late  ever  to  turn  back. 
**  All  Hope  abandon,  ye  who  enter  here."  He  had  read  it 
and  defied  it.  He  had  entered  knowing  what  he  was  about, 
and  thinking,  poor  fool  that  he  was,  that  he  was  doing  a 
wise  and  noble  thing  for  the  sake  of  another. 

Over  in  the  little  parsonage,  the  white  souled  girl  was 
walking  in  an  earthly  heaven.  Ah!  There  was  nothing, 
nothing  they  had  in  common  now  any  more.  She  lived 
in  the  City  of  Hope  and  he  in  the  City  of  Fire. 

He  flung  out  the  book  from  him  and  dropped  his  face 
into  his  hands  crying  softly  under  his  breath,  "  Oh,  Lynn, 
Lynn — Marilyn  I " 


XV 


For  one  instant  Lynn  stood  against  the  closed  door, 
flaming  with  anger,  her  eyes  flashing  fire  as  they  well  knew 
how  to  flash  at  times.  Then  suddenly  her  lips  set  close 
in  a  fine  control  the  fire  died  out  of  her  eyes,  she  drew  a 
deep  breath,  and  a  quick  whimsical  smile  lighted  up  her 
face,  which  nevertheless  did  not  look  in  the  least  like 
one  subdued: 

"  You  know  I  could  get  very  angry  at  that  if  I  chose 
and  we'd  have  all  kinds  of  a  disagreeable  time,  but  I  think 
it  would  be  a  little  pleasanter  for  us  both  if  you  would  cut 
that  out,  don't  you?  "  She  said  it  in  a  cool  little  voice  that 
sounded  like  one  in  entire  command  of  the  situation,  and 
Opal  turned  around  and  stared  at  her  admiringly.  Then 
she  laughed  one  of  her  wild  silvery  laughs  that  made  them 
say  she  had  a  lute-like  voice,  and  sauntered  over  toward 
her  hostess: 

"  You  certainly  are  a  queer  girl !  "  she  commented,  "  I 
suppose  it  would  be  better  to  be  friends,  inasmuch  as  we're 
to  be  roommates.  Will  you  smoke  with  me  ?  "  and  out 
from  the  depths  of  a  beaded  affair  that  was  a  part  of  her 
frock  and  yet  looked  more  like  a  bag  than  a  pocket,  she 
drew  forth  a  gold  cigarette  case  and  held  it  out. 

Marilyn  controlled  the  growing  contempt  in  her  face 
and  answered  with  spirit : 

"  No,  I  don't  smoke.  And  you  won't  smoke  either — 
not  in  here!  I'm  sorry  to  seem  inhospitable,  but  we  don't 
do  things  like  that  around  here,  and  if  you  have  to  smoke 
you'll  have  to  go  out  doors." 

"  Oh,  really?  "  Opal  arched  her  already  permanently 
arched,  plucked  brows  and  laughed  again.  "  Well,  you 
certainly  have  lots  of  pep.  I  believe  I'm  going  to  like  you. 
Let's  sit  down  and  you  tell  me  about  yourself  ?  " 

169 


170  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  me  about  yourself  f  hedged 
Marilyn  relaxing  into  a  chair  and  leaving  the  deep  leather 
one  for  her  guest,  "  Fm  really  a  very  simple  affair,  just  a 
country  girl  very  glad  to  get  home  after  four  years  at 
college.  There's  nothing  complex  and  nothing  to  tell  I 
assure  you/' 

"  You're  entirely  too  sophisticated  for  all  that  sim- 
plicity," declared  Opal,  "  I  suppose  it's  college  that  has 
given  you  so  much  poise.  But  why  aren't  you  impressed 
w^ith  Laurie  ?  Simply  everybody  is  impressed  with  Laurie ! 
I  don't  believe  you  even  know  who  he  is !  " 

Lynn  laughed : 

"  How  should  I  ?  And  what  difference  would  it  make 
any  way  ?  As  for  being  impressed,  he  gave  me  the  impres- 
sion of  a  very  badly  spoiled  boy  out  trying  to  have  his  own 
way,  and  making  a  great  fuss  because  he  couldn't  get  it." 

"  And  you  didn't  know  that  his  father  is  William  J. 
Shafton,  the  multi-millionaire?"  Opal  brought  the 
words  out  like  little  sharp  points  that  seemed  to  glitter 
affluently  as  she  spoke  them. 

"  No,"  said  Marilyn,  "  I  didn't  know.  But  it  doesn't 
matter.  We  hadn't  anything  better  to  offer  him  than  we've 
given,  and  I  don't  know  why  I  should  have  been  impressed 
by  that.  A  man  is  what  he  is,  isn't  he?  Not  what  his 
father  is.  He  isn't  your — brother — is  he  ?  I  was  over  at 
the  church  when  you  arrived  and  didn't  hear  the  introduc- 
tions.   I  didn't  even  get  your  name." 

Opal  laughed  uproariously  as  if  the  subject  were  over- 
whelmingly amusing : 

"  No,  she  said  recovering,  "  I'm  just  Opal.  Fire  Opal 
they  call  me  sometimes,  and  Opalescence.  That's  Laurie's 
name  for  me,  although  lately  he's  taken  to  calling  me 
Effervescence.  No,  he's  not  my  brother  little  Simple 
Lady,  he's  just  one  of  my  friends.  Now  don't  look 
shocked.  I'm  a  naughty  married  lady  run  off  on  a  spree 
ior  a  little  fun."    Marilyn  regarded  her  thoughtfully: 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  171 

"  Now  stop  looking  at  me  with  those  solemn  eyes ! 
Tell  me  what  you  were  thinking  about  me !  Fd  lots  rather 
hear  it.  It  would  be  something  original,  Tm  sure.  You're 
nothing  if  not  original !  '* 

"  I  was  just  wondering  why,"  said  Marilyn  still 
thoughtfully. 

"Why  what?" 

"  Why.  Why  you  did  it.  Why  you  wanted  to  be  that 
kind  of  a  married  woman  when  the  real  kind  is  so  much 
more  beautiful  and  satisfactory." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  it  ?  "  blazed  Opal,  "  YouVe 
never  been  married,  have  you  ?  " 

"  My  mother  has  had  such  a  wonderful  life  with  my 
father — and  my  father  with  my  mother !  " 

Opal  stared  at  her  amazed  for  an  instant,  then  shrug- 
ged her  shoulders  lightly : 

"Oh,  that!"  she  said  and  laughed  disagreeably,  "If 
one  wants  to  be  a  saint,  perhaps,  but  there  aren't  many 
men-S3mts  I  can  tell  you !  You  haven't  seen  my  husband 
or  you  wouldn't  talk  like  that !  Imagine  living  a  saintly 
life  with  Ed  Verrons !  But  my  dear,  wait  till  you're  mar- 
ried !    You  won't  talk  that  rubbish  any  more !" 

"  I  shall  never  marry  unless  I  can,"  said  Lynn  decid- 
edly, "  It  would  be  terrible  to  marry  some  one  I  could  not 
love  and  trust !  " 

"  Oh,  love !  "  said  Opal  contemptuously,  "  You  can 
love  any  one  you  want  to  for  a  little  while.  Love  doesn't 
last.  It's  just  a  play  you  soon  get  tired  to  death  of.  But 
if  that's  the  way  you  feel  don't  pin  your  trust  and  your 
love  as  you  call  it  to  that  princely  icicle  we  saw  down  on 
the  lawn.  He's  seen  more  of  the  world  than  you  know.  I 
saw  it  in  his  eyes.  There!  Now  don't  set  your  eyes  to 
blazing  again.  I  won't  mention  him  any  more  to-night. 
And  don't  worry  about  me,  I'm  going  to  be  good  and  run 
back  to-morrow  morning  in  time  to  meet  my  dear  old 


172  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

hubby  in  the  evening  when  he  gets  back  from  a  week*s 
fishing  in  the  Adirondacks,  and  he'll  never  guess  what  a 
frolic  I've  had.  But  you  certainly  do  amuse  me  with  your 
indifference.  Wait  till  Laurie  gets  in  some  of  his  work 
on  you.  I  can  see  he's  crazy  already  about  you,  and  if  I 
don't  decide  to  carry  him  off  with  me  in  the  morning  I'll 
miss  my  guess  if  he  doesn't  show  you  how  altogether 
charming  the  son  of  William  J.  Shafton  can  be.  He  never 
failed  to  have  a  girl  fall  for  him  yet,  not  one  that  he 
went  after,  and  he's  been  after  a  good  many  girls  I  can 
tell  you." 

Lynn  arose  suddenly,  her  chin  a  bit  high,  a  light  of 
determination  in  her  eyes.  She  felt  herself  growing 
angry  again: 

"  Come  and  look  at  my  view  of  the  moon  on  the  val- 
ley," she  said  suddenly,  pulling  aside  the  soft  scrim  cur- 
tain and  letting  in  a  flood  of  moonlight.  "  Here,  I'll  turn 
out  the  light  so  you  can  see  better.    Isn't  that  beautiful?  " 

She  switched  off  the  lights  and  the  stranger  drew  near 
apathetically,  gazing  out  into  the  beauty  of  the  moonlight 
as  it  touched  the  houses  half  hidden  in  the  trees  and  vines, 
and  flooded  the  Valley  stretching  far  away  to  the  feet  of 
the  tall  dark  mountains. 

"  I  hate  mountains !  "  shuddered  Opal,  "  They  make 
me  afraid!  I  almost  ran  over  a  precipice  when  I  was 
coming  here  yesterday.  If  I  have  to  go  back  that  same 
way  I  shall  take  Laurie,  or  if  he  won't  go  I'll  cajole  that 
stunning  prince  of  yours  if  you  don't  mind.  I  loathe  being 
alone.    That's  why  I  ran  down  here  to  see  Laurie !  " 

But  Lynn  had  switched  on  the  lights  and  turned  from 
the  window.    Her  face  was  cold  and  her  voice  hard : 

"  Suppose  we  go  to  bed,"  she  said,  "  will  you  have  the 
bed  next  the  window  or  the  door?  And  what  shall  I  get 
for  you?  Have  you  everything?  See,  here  is  the  bath- 
room.    Father  and  mother  had  it  built  for  me  for  my 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  173 

birthday.    And  the  furniture  is  some  of  mother's  grand- 
mother's.   They  had  it  done  over  for  me." 

"It's  really  a  dandy  room !  "  said  Opal  admiringly,  "  I 
hadn't  expected  to  find  anything  like  this,"  she  added  with- 
out seeming  to  know  she  was  patronizing.  "  You  are  the 
only  child,  aren't  you?  Your  father  and  mother  just  dote 
on  you  too.  That  must  be  nice.  We  had  a  whole  houseful 
at  home,  three  girls  and  two  boys,  and  after  father  lost 
his  money  and  had  to  go  to  a  sanitarium  we  had  frightful 
times,  never  any  money  to  buy  anything,  the  girls  always 
fighting  over  who  should  have  silk  stockings,  and  mother 
crying  every  night  when  we  learned  to  smoke.  Of  course 
mother  was  old  fashioned.  I  hated  to  have  her  weeping 
around  all  the  time,  but  all  our  set  smoked  and  what  could 
I  do?  So  I  just  took  the  first  good  chance  to  get  married 
and  got  out  of  it  all.  And  Ed  isn't  so  bad.  Lots  of  men 
are  worse.  And  he  gives  me  all  the  money  I  want.  One 
thing  the  girls  don't  have  to  fight  over  silk  stockings  and 
silk  petticoats  any  more  ?  I  send  them  all  they  want.  And 
I  manage  to  get  my  good  times  in  now  and  then  too.  But 
tell  me,  what  in  the  world  do  you  do  in  this  sleepy  little 
town?  Don't  you  get  bored  to  death?  I  should  think 
you'd  get  your  father  to  move  to  the  city.  There  must  be 
plenty  of  churches  where  a  good  looking  minister  like 
your  father  could  get  a  much  bigger  salary  than  out  in  the 
country  like  this.  When  I  get  back  to  New  York  I'll  send 
for  you  to  visit  me  and  show  you  a  real  good  time.  I 
suppose  you've  never  been  to  cabarets  and  eaten  theatre 
suppers,  and  seen  a  real  New  York  good  time.  Why,  last 
winter  I  had  an  affair  that  was  talked  of  in  the  papers  for 
days.  I  had  the  whole  lower  floor  decorated  as  a  wood  you 
know,  with  real  trees  set  up,  and  mossy  banks,  and  a  brook 
running  through  it  all.  It  took  days  for  the  plumbers  to 
get  the  fittings  in,  and  then  they  put  stones  in  the  bottom, 
and  gold  fish,  and  planted  violets  on  the  banks  and  all 


174  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

kinds  of  ferns  and  lilies  of  the  valley,  everywhere  there 
were  flowers  blossoming  so  the  guests  could  pick  as  many 
as  they  wanted.  The  stream  was  deep  enough  to  float  little 
canoes,  and  they  stopped  in  grottoes  for  champagne,  and 
when  they  came  to  a  shallow  place  they  had  to  get  out  and 
take  off  their  shoes  and  stockings  and  wade  in  the  brook. 
On  the  opposite  bank  a  maid  was  waiting  with  towels. 
The  ladies  sat  down  on  the  bank  and  their  escorts  had  to 
wipe  their  feet  and  help  them  on  with  their  shoes  and 
stockings  again,  and  you  ought  to  have  heard  the  shouts 
of  laughter!  It  certainly  was  a  great  time!  Upstairs  in 
the  ball  room  we  had  garden  walks  all  about,  with  all  kinds 
of  flowers  growing,  and  real  birds  flying  around,  and  the 
walls  were  simply  covered  with  American  beauty  roses 
and  wonderful  climbers,  in  such  bowers  that  the  air  was 
heavy  with  perfume.  The  flowers  alone  cost  thousands — 
What^s  the  matter?  Did  you  hear  something  fall?  You 
startled  me,  jumping  up  like  that !  You're  nervous  aren't 
you?    Don't  you  think  music  makes  people  nervous?" 

Marilyn  smiled  pathetically,  and  dropped  back  to  the 
edge  of  her  bed : 

"  Pardon  me,"  she  said,  "  I  was  just  in  one  of  my 
tempers  again.  I  get  them  a  lot  but  I'm  trying  to  control 
them.  I  happened  to  think  of  the  little  babies  I  saw  in 
the  tenement  districts  when  I  was  in  New  York  last.  Did 
you  ever  go  there?  They  wear  one  little  garment,  and 
totter  around  in  the  cold  street  trying  to  play,  with  no 
stockings,  and  shoes  out  at  the  toes.  Sometimes  they 
haven't  enough  to  eat,  and  their  mothers  are  so  wretchedly 
poor  and  sorrowful — !  " 

"  Mercy !  "  shuddered  Opal,  "  How  morbid  you  are ! 
What  ever  did  you  go  to  a  place  like  that  for  ?  I  always 
keep  as  far  away  from  unpleasant  things  as  I  can.  I  cross 
the  street  if  I  see  a  blind  beggar  ahead.  I  just  loathe 
misery!      But   however    did   you   happen   to    think    of 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  175 

them  when  I  was  telling  you  about  my  beautiful  ball 
room  decorations  ?  " 

Lynn  twinkled : 

"I  guess  you  wouldn't  understand  me,"  she  said  slowly, 
"  but  I  was  thinking  of  all  the  good  those  thousands  of 
dollars  would  have  done  if  they  had  been  spent  on  babies 
and  not  on  flowers.'' 

"  Gracious !  "  said  Opal.  "  I  hate  babies !  Ed  is  crazy 
about  them,  and  would  like  to  have  the  house  full,  but  I 
gave  him  to  understand  what  I  thought  about  that  before 
we  were  married." 

"  I  love  babies,"  said  Marilyn.  "  They  want  me  to  go 
this  Fall  and  do  some  work  in  that  settlement,  and  I'm  con- 
sidering it.  If  it  only  weren't  for  leaving  father  and 
mother  again — but  I  do  love  the  babies  and  the  little  chil- 
dren, I  want  to  gather  them  all  and  do  so  many  things  for 
them.  You  know  they  are  all  God's  babies,  and  it  seems 
pitiful  for  them  to  have  to  be  in  such  a  dreadful  world  as 
some  of  them  have !  " 

"Oh,  God!"  shuddered  Opal  quite  openly  now, 
"  Don't  talk  about  God!  /  hate  God!  He's  just  killed  one 
of  my  best  men  friends!  I  v/ish  you  wouldn't  talk 
about  God!" 

Marilyn  looked  at  her  sadly,  contemplatively,  and  then 
twitched  her  mouth  into  a  little  smile: 

"  We're  not  getting  on  very  well,  are  we  ?  I  don't  like 
your  costly  entertainments,  and  you  don't  like  my  best 
Friend !  I'm  sorry.  I  must  seem  a  little  prude  to  you  I'm 
afraid,  but  really,  God  is  not  what  you  think.  You 
wouldn't  hate  Him,  you  would  love  Him, — if  you 
knew  Him." 

"  Fancy  knowing  God — as  you  would  your  other 
friends !    How  dreadfid!    Let's  go  to  bed !  " 

Opal  began  to  get  out  her  lovely  brushes  and  toilet 
paraphernalia  and  Lynn  let  down  her  wonderful  golden 


176  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

mane  and  began  to  brush  it,  looking  exquisite  in  a  little 
blue  dimity  kimona  delicately  edged  with'  Valenciennes. 
Opal  made  Herself  radiant  in  a  rose-chiffon  and  old-point 
negligee  and  went  through  numerous  gyrations  relating 
to  the  complexion,  complaining  meanwhile  of  the  lack  of 
a  maid. 

But  after  the  lights  were  out,  and  Lynn  kneeling 
silently  by  her  bed  in  the  moonlight.  Opal  lay  on  the  other 
bed  and  watched  her  wonderingly,  and  when  a  few  minutes 
later,  Marilyn  rose  softly  and  crept  into  bed  as  quietly  as 
possible  lest  she  disturb  her  guest.  Opal  spoke : 

"  I  wonder  what  you  would  do  if  a  man — the  man  you 
liked  best  in  all  the  world, — had  got  killed  doing  something 
to  please  you.  It  makes  you  go  crazy  when  you  think  of 
it — someone  youVe  danced  with  lying  dead  that  way  all 
alone.    I  wonder  what  you'd  do! " 

Lynn  brought  her  mind  back  from  her  own  sorrows 
and  prayers  with  a  jerk  to  the  problem  of  this  strange 
guest.  She  did  not  answer  for  a  moment,  then  she  said 
very  slowly: 

**  I  think — I  don't  know — but  I  think  I  should  go  right 
to  God  and  ask  Him  what  to  do.  I  think  nobody  else 
could  show  what  ought  to  be  done.  There  wouldn't  be 
anything  else  to  do !  " 

"  Oh,  murder! ''  said  Opal  turning  over  in  bed  quickly, 
and  hiding  her  face  in  the  pillow,  and  there  was  in  the 
end  of  her  breath  just  the  suggestion  of  a  shriek  of  fear. 

But  far,  far  into  the  night  Marilyn  lay  on  her  sleepless 
pillow,  her  heart  crying  out  to  God :  "  Oh,  save  Mark ! 
Take  care  of  Mark!    Show  him  the  way  back  again!" 

Afar  in  the  great  city  a  message  stole  on  a  wire  through 
the  night,  and  presently  the  great  presses  were  hot  with 
its  import,  printing  thousands  and  thousands  of  extras  for 
early  morning  consumption,  with  headlines  in  enormous 
letters  across  the  front  page : 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  177 


LAURENCE  SHAFTON,  SON  OF  WILLIAM 
J.  SHAFTON,  KIDNAPPED!" 

**  Mrs  Shafton  is  lying  in  nervous  collapse  as  the  result 
of  threats  from  kidnappers  who  boldly  called  her  up  on 
the  phone  and  demanded  a  king's  ransom,  threatening 
death  to  the  son  if  the  plot  was  revealed  before  ten  o'clock 
this  morning.  The  faithful  mother  gathered  her  treasures 
which  included  the  famous  Shafton  Emeralds,  and  a  string 
of  pearls  worth  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  let  them 
down  from  her  window  as  directed,  and  then  fainted, 
knowing  nothing  more  till  her  maid  hearing  her  fall, 
rushed  into  the  room  and  found  her  unconscious.  When 
roused  she  became  hysterical  and  told  what  had  happened. 
.Then  remembering  the  threat  of  death  for  telling  ahead  of 
time  she  became  crazy  with  grief,  and  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  soothe  her.  The  maid  called  her  family 
physician,explaining  all  she  knew,  and  the  matter  was  at 
once  put  into  the  hands  of  capable  detectives  who  are 
doing  all  they  know  how  to  locate  the  missing  son,  who 
has  been  gone  only  since  Saturday  evening;  and  also  to 
find  the  missing  jewels  and  other  property,  and  it  is  hoped 
that  before  evening  the  young  man  will  be  found." 

Meantime,  Laurence  Shafton  slept  soundly  and  late  in 
the  minister's  study,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  turmoil  and 
sorrow  of  his  doting  family. 


12 


XVI 


Though  Mark  had  scarcely  slept  at  all  the  night  before 
he  was  on  hand  long  before  the  city-bred  youth  was  awake, 
taking  apart  the  big  machine  that  stood  in  front  of  the 
parsonage.  Like  a  skillful  physician  he  tested  its  various 
valves  and  compartments,  went  over  its  engine  carefully, 
and  came  at  last  to  the  seat  of  the  trouble  which  the  min- 
ister had  diagnosed  the  night  before. 

Lynn  with  dark  circles  under  her  eyes  had  wakened 
early  and  slipped  down  to  the  kitchen  to  help  her  mother 
and  the  little  maid  of  all  work  who  lived  down  the  street 
and  was  a  member  of  the  Sunday  School  and  an  important 
part  of  the  family.  It  was  Naomi  who  discovered  the 
young  mechanic  at  the  front  door.  There  was  not  much 
that  Naomi  did  not  see.  She  announced  his  presence  to 
Marilyn  as  she  was  filling  the  salt  cellars  for  breakfast. 
Marilyn  looked  up  startled,  and  met  her  mother's  eyes  full 
of  comfort  and  reassurance.  Somehow  when  Mark  came 
quietly  about  in  that  helpful  way  of  his  it  was  impossible 
not  to  have  the  old  confidence  in  him,  the  old  assurance 
that  all  would  soon  be  right,  the  old  explanation  that  Mark 
was  always  doing  something  quietly  for  others  and  never 
taking  care  for  himself.  Marilyn  let  her  lips  relax  into  a 
smile  and  went  about  less  heavy  of  heart.  Surely,  surely, 
somehow,  Mark  would  clear  himself  of  these  awful  things 
that  were  being  said  about  him.  Surely  the  day  would 
bring  forth  a  revelation.  And  Mark's  action  last  night 
when  he  refused  to  speak  with  her,  refused  to  let  her  touch 
his  arm,  and  called  himself  unworthy  was  all  for  her  sake ; 
all  because  he  did  not  want  her  name  sullied  with  a  breath 
of  the  scandal  that  belonged  to  him.  Mark  would  be  that 
178 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  179 

way.  He  would  protect  her  always,  even  though  he  did 
not  belong  to  her,  even  though  he  were  not  her  friend. 

She  was  almost  cheerful  again,  when  at  last  the  dal- 
lying guests  appeared  for  a  late  breakfast.  Mark  was  still 
working  at  the  car,  filing  something  with  long  steady 
grinding  noises.  She  had  seen  him  twice  from  the  win- 
dow, but  she  did  not  venture  out.  Mark  had  not  wished 
her  to  speak  to  him,  she  would  not  go  against  his  wish, — 
at  least  not  now — ^not  until  the  guests  were  out  of  the  way. 
That  awful  girl  should  have  no  further  opportunity  to  say 
things  to  her  about  Mark.  She  would  keep  out  of  his  way 
until  they  were  gone.  Oh,  pray  that  the  car  would  be 
fixed  and  they  pass  on  their  way  at  once !  Later,  if  there 
were  opportunity,  she  would  find  a  way  to  tell  Mark  that 
he  should  not  refuse  her  friendship.  What  was  friendship 
if  it  could  not  stand  the  strain  of  falsehood  and  gossip, 
and  even  scandal  if  necessary.  She  was  not  ashamed  to 
let  Mark  know  she  would  be  his  friend  forever.  There 
was  nothing  unmaidenly  in  that.  Mark  would  under- 
stand her.  Mark  had  always  understood  her.  And  so  she 
cheered  her  heavy  heart  through  the  breakfast  hour,  and 
the  foolish  jesting  of  the  two  that  sounded  to  her  anxious 
ears,  in  the  language  of  scripture,  like  the  "crackling 
of  thorns  under  a  pot." 

But  at  last  they  finished  the  breakfast  and  shoved  their 
chairs  back  to  go  and  look  at  the  car.  Mr.  Severn  and  his 
wife  had  eaten  long  ago  and  gone  about  their  early  morn- 
ing duties,  and  it  had  been  Marilyn's  duty  to  do  the  honors 
for  the  guests,  so  she  drew  a  sign  of  relief,  and,  evading 
Laurie's  proffered  arm  slid  into  the  pantry  and  let  them 
go  alone. 

But  when  she  glanced  through  the  dining-room  win- 
dow a  few  minutes  later  as  she  passed  removing  the  dishes 
from  the  table,  she  saw  Mark  upon  his  knees  beside  the 


180  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

car,  looking  up  with  his  winning  smile  and  talking  to  Opal, 
who  stood  close  beside  him  all  attention,  with  her  little  boy- 
attitude,  and  a  wide  childlike  look  in  her  big  effective  eyes. 
Something  big  and  terrible  seemed  to  seize  Marilyn's  heart 
with  a  vise-like  grip,  and  be  choking  her  breath  in  her 
throat.  She  turned  quickly,  gathered  up  her  pile  of  dishes 
and  hurried  into  the  pantry,  her  face  white  and  set,  and  her 
eyes  stinging  with  proud  unshed  tears. 

A  few  minutes  later,  dressed  in  brown  riding  clothes 
exquisitely  tailored,  and  a  soft  brown  felt  hat,  she  might 
have  been  seen  hurrying  through  the  back  fence,  if  any- 
body had  been  looking  that  way,  across  the  Joneses'  lot 
to  the  little  green  stable  that  housed  a  riding  horse  that 
was  hers  to  ride  whenever  she  chose.  She  had  left  word 
with  Naomi  that  she  was  going  to  Economy  and  would  be 
back  in  time  for  lunch,  and  she  hoped  in  her  heart  that 
when  she  returned  both  of  their  guests  would  have  de- 
parted? It  was  perhaps  a  bit  shabby  of  her  to  leave  it  all 
on  her  mother  this  way,  but  mother  would  understand, 
and  very  likely  be  glad. 

So  Lynn  mounted  her  little  brown  horse  and  rode  by  a 
circuitous  way,  across  the  creek,  and  out  around  the  town 
to  avoid  passing  her  own  home,  and  was  presently  on  her 
way  up  to  the  crossroads  down  which  Laurie  Shafton  had 
come  in  tlie  dark  midnight. 

As  she  crossed  the  Highway,  she  noticed  the  Detour, 
and  paused  an  instant  to  study  the  peculiar  sign,  and  the 
partly  cleared  way  around.  And  while  she  stood  won- 
dering a  car  came  swiftly  up  from  the  Economy  way  past 
the  Blue  Duck  Tavern.  The  driver  bowed  and  smiled  and 
she  perceived  it  was  the  Chief  of  Police  from  Economy,  a 
former  resident  of  Sabbath  Valley,  and  very  much  re- 
spected in  the  community,  and  with  him  in  the  front  seat 
was  another  uniformed  policeman! 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  181 

With  a  sudden  constriction  at  her  heart  Marilyn  bowed 
and  rode  on.  Was  he  going  to  Sabbath  Valley?  Was 
there  truth  in  the  rumor  that  Mark  was  in  trouble  ?  She 
looked  back  to  see  if  he  had  turned  down  the  Highway, 
but  he  halted  the  car  with  its  nose  pointed  Sabbath 
Valle)rward  and  got  out  to  examine  the  Detour  on  the 
Highway.  She  rode  slowly  and  turned  around  several 
times,  but  as  long  as  she  was  in  sight  his  car  remained 
standing  pointed  toward  the  Valley. 


XVII 

Billy  awoke  to  the  light  of  day  with  the  sound  of  a 
strange  car  going  by.  The  road  through  Sabbath  Valley 
was  not  much  frequented,  and  Billy  knew  every  car  that 
usually  travelled  that  way.  They  were  mostly  Economy 
and  Monopoly  people,  and  as  there  happened  to  be  a 
mountain  trolley  between  the  two  towns  higher  up  making 
a  circuit  to  touch  at  Brooktown,  people  seldom  came  this 
way.  Therefore  at  the  unusual  sound  Billy  was  on  the  alert 
at  once.  One  movement  brought  him  upright  with  his  feet 
upon  the  floor  blinking  toward  his  window,  a  second  car- 
ried him  to  shelter  behind  the  curtain  where  he  could  see 
the  stranger  go  by. 

Billy  had  reduced  the  science  of  dressing  to  a  fine 
degree.  He  could  climb  into  the  limited  number  of  sum- 
mer garments  in  less  time  than  any  boy  in  the  community, 
and  when  he  saw  that  the  car  had  halted  just  above  the 
house  and  that  the  driver  was  interviewing  Jim  Rafferty, 
he  reached  for  a  handful  of  garments,  and  began  to  climb, 
keeping  one  eye  out  the  window  for  developments.  Was 
that  or  was  it  not  the  Chief's  car  out  there?  If  it  was 
what  did  it  want? 

Billy  was  in  socks,  trousers  and  shirt  by  the  time  the 
car  began  to  puff  again  for  starting,  and  he  stove  his  feet 
into  his  old  shoes  and  dove  down  stairs  three  steps  at  a 
stride  and  out  the  door  where  he  suddenly  became  a  casual 
observer  of  the  day. 

"  Hullo,  Billy!  That  you?  "  accosted  the  Chief  driving 
slowly  down  the  street,  "  Say,  Billy,  you  haven't  seen 
Mark  Carter,  have  you  ?  They  said  he  had  gone  down  to 
the  blacksmith's  to  get  something  fixed  for  a  car.  I 
thought  perhaps  you'd  seen  him  go  by." 

Billy  shook  his  head  lazily : 

182 

r 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  183 

"  Nope,"  he  said,  "  I've  been  busy  this  morning.  He 
mighta  gone  by." 

"Well  I'll  just  drive  down  and  see!  "  The  car  started 
on  and  turned  into  the  Lane  that  led  to  the  black- 
smith shop. 

Billy  dove  into  the  house,  made  short  work  of  his 
ablutions,  gave  his  hair  a  brief  lick  with  the  brush,  col- 
lected his  cap  and  sweater,  bolted  the  plate  of  breakfast 
Aunt  Saxon  had  left  on  the  back  of  the  stove  when  she 
we;it  away  for  her  regular  Monday's  wash,  and  was  ready 
behind  the  lilac  bush  with  old  trusty,  down  on  his  knees 
oiling  her  ^  bit,  when  the  Chief  drove  back  with  Mark 
Carter  in  the  back  seat  looking  strangely  white  and 
haughty,  but  talking  affably  with  the  Chief. 

His  heart  sank.  Somehow  he  knew  something  was 
wrong  with  Mark.  Mark  was  in  his  old  clothes  with  sev- 
eral pieces  of  iron  in  his  hand  as  if  he  hadn't  taken  time  to 
lay  them  down.  Billy  remained  in  hiding  and  watched 
while  the  Chief's  car  stopped  at  Carter's  and  Mark  got  out. 
The  car  waited  several  minutes,  and  then  Mark  came  out 
with  his  good  clothes  on  and  his  best  hat,  and  got  into  the 
car  and  they  drove  off,  Mark  looking  stern  and  white. 
Billy  shot  out  from  his  hiding  and  mounting  his  steed  flew 
down  the  road,  keeping  well  behind  the  maples  and  hedges, 
and  when  the  Chief's  car  stopped  in  front  of  the  parsonage 
he  dismounted  and  stepped  inside  Joneses'  drive  to  listen. 
Mark  got  out,  sprang  up  the  steps,  touched  the  bell,  and 
said  to  someone  who  appeared  at  the  door,  "  Mr.  Shafton, 
I'm  sorry,  but  I'll  not  be  able  to  get  those  bearings  fixed  up 
to-day.  The  blacksmith  doesn't  seem  to  have  anything 
that  will  do.  I  find  I  have  to  go  over  to  Economy  on  busi- 
ness, and  I'll  look  around  there  and  see  if  anybody  has 
any.  I  expect  to  be  back  by  twelve  o'clock,  and  will  you 
tell  the  lady  that  I  will  be  ready  to  start  at  half -past  if  that 
will  suit  her.    I  am  sure  we  shall  have  plenty  of  time  to  get 


184  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

her  to  Beechwood  by  five  or  sooner.  If  anything  occurs 
to  keep  me  from  going  I'll  telephone  you  in  an  hour,  so 
that  she  can  make  other  arrangements.  Thank  you,  Mr. 
Shafton.  Sorry  I  couldn't  fix  you  up  right  away,  but  I'll 
look  after  the  lady  for  you."  Mark  hurried  back  to  the 
car  again  and  they  drove  off. 

Billy  escorted  the  Department  of  Justice  distantly,  as 
far  as  the  Crossing  at  the  Highway,  from  which  eminence 
he  watched  until  he  saw  that  they  stopped  at  the  Blue 
Duck  Tavern  for  a  few  minutes,  after  which  they  went  on 
toward  Economy;  then  he  inspected  the  recent  clearing  of 
his  detour,  obviously  by  the  Chief,  and  hurried  down  the 
Highway  toward  the  railroad  Crossing  at  Pleasant  View. 
It  was  almost  train  time,  and  he  had  a  hunch  that  there 
might  be  something  interesting  around  that  hidden  tele- 
phone. If  he  only  had  had  more  time  he  might  have 
arranged  to  tap  the  wire  and  listen  in  without  having  to 
go  so  near,  but  he  must  do  the  best  he  could. 

When  he  reached  a  point  on  the  Highway  where 
Pleasant  View  station  was  easily  discernible  he  dis- 
mounted, parked  his  wheel  among  the  huckleberries,  and 
slid  into  the  green  of  the  Valley.  Stealing  cautiously  to 
the  scene  of  the  Saturday  night  hold-up  he  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  locating  the  hidden  telephone,  and  creeping  into 
a  well  screened  spot  not  far  away  arranged  himself  com- 
fortably to  wait  till  the  trains  came.  He  argued  that  Pat 
would  likely  come  down  to  report  or  get  orders  about  the 
same  time  as  before,  and  so  in  the  stillness  of  the  morning 
he  lay  on  the  ground  and  waited.  He  could  hear  a  song 
sparrow  high  up  on  the  telegraph  wire,  sing  out  its  wild 
sweet  lonely  strain :  Sweet — sweetsweetsweet — sweetsweet 
— sweetsweet — !  and  a  hum  of  bees  in  the  wild  grape 
that  trailed  over  the  sassafras  trees.  Beside  him  a  little 
wood  spider  stole  noiselessly  on  her  busy  way.  But  his 
heart  was  heavy  with  new  burdens  and  he  could  not  take 


THE  CITY  OP  FIRE  185 

his  usual  rhapsodic  joy  in  the  things  of  Nature.  What 
was  happening  to  Mark  and  what  could  he  do  about  it? 
Perhaps  Mark  would  have  been  better  off  if  he  had  left 
him  in  the  old  house  on  Stark's  mountain.  The  chief 
couldn't  have  found  him  then  and  the  kidnappers  would 
have  kept  him  safe  for  a  good  many  days  till  they  got 
some  money.  But  there  wouldn't  have  been  any  money! 
For  Mark  wasn't  the  right  man!  And  the  kidnappers 
would  have  found  it  out  pretty  soon  and  what  would  they 
have  done  to  Mark?  Killed  him  perhaps  so  they  wouldn't 
get  into  any  more  trouble !  There  was  no  telling !  And 
time  would  have  gone  on  and  nobody  would  have  known 
what  had  become  of  Mark.  And  the  murder  trial — if  it 
was  really  a  murder — would  come  off  and  they  couldn't 
find  Mark,  and  of  course  they  would  think  Mark  had 
killed  the  man  and  then  run  away.  And  Mark  would  never 
be  able  to  come  home  again !  No,  he  was  glad  Mark  was 
out  and  safe  and  free  from  dope.  At  least  Mark  would 
know  what  to  do  to  save  himself.  Or  would  he  ?  Billy  sud- 
denly had  his  doubts.  Would  Mark  take  care  of  himself, 
just  himself,  or  not?  Mark  was  always  looking  after 
other  people,  but  he  had  somehow  always  let  people  say 
and  do  what  they  would  with  him.  Aw  gee !  Now  Mark 
wouldn't  let  them  locate  a  thing  like  a  murder  on  him, 
would  he?  And  there  was  Miss  Lynn!  And  Mark's 
mother!  Mark  oughtta  think  of  them.  Well,  maybe  he 
wouldn't  realize  how  much  they  did  care.  Billy  had  a  sud- 
den revelation  that  maybe  that  was  half  the  matter,  Mark 
didn't  know  how  much  any  of  them  cared.  Back  in  his 
mind  there  was  an  uncomfortable  memory  of  Aunt 
Saxon's  pink  damp  features  and  anxious  eyes  and  a  pos- 
sible application  of  the  same  principle  to  his  own  life,  as  in 
the  case  of  Judas.  But  he  wasn't  considering  himself  now. 
There  might  come  a  time  when  he  would  have  to  change 
his  tactics  with  regard  to  Aunt  Saxon  somewhat.     She 


186  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

certainly  had  been  a  good  sport  last  night.  But  this  wasn't 
the  time  to  consider  that.  He  had  a  great  deal  more  im- 
portant matters  to  think  of  now.  He  had  to  find  out  how 
he  could  make  it  perfectly  plain  to  the  world  that  Mark 
Carter  had  not  shot  a  man  after  twelve  o'clock  Saturday 
night  at  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern.  And  as  yet  he  didn't  see 
any  way  without  incriminating  himself  as  a  kidnapper. 
This  cut  deep  because  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word  he 
was  not  a  kidnapper,  because  he  hadn't  meant  to  be  a 
kidnapper.  He  had  only  meant  to  play  a  joke  on  the  kid- 
nappers, and  at  worst  his  only  really  intended  fault  had 
been  the  putting  up  of  that  detour  on  the  Highway.  But 
he  had  an  uncomfortable  conviction  that  he  wouldn't  be 
able  to  make  the  Chief  and  the  Constable,  and  some  of 
those  people  over  at  Economy  Court  House  see  it  that  way. 
As  matters  stood  he  was  safe  if  he  kept  his  mouth  shut. 
Nobody  knew  but  Mark,  and  he  didn't  know  the  details. 
Besides,  Mark  would  never  tell.  Mark  would  even  go  to 
trial  for  murder  before  he  would  let  himself  out  by  telling 
on  Billy,  Billy  knew  that  as  well  as  he  knew  that  the  old 
mountain  on  whose  feet  he  lay  stretched  now  would  stand 
up  there  for  ages  and  always  keep  his  secret  for  him.  Mark 
was  that  way.  That  was  why  it  made  it  worse  for  Billy. 
Judas  again !  Billy  was  surprised  to  find  how  much  Judas- 
blood  there  seemed  to  be  in  him.  He  lay  there  and  despised 
himself  without  being  able  to  help  himself  out  or  think  of 
an3^hing  he  could  do.  And  then  quite  suddenly  as  he  was 
going  over  the  whole  circumstance  from  the  time  he  first 
listened  to  Pat's  message  into  the  moss  of  the  mountain, 
until  now,  the  name  Shaft  on  came  to  him.  Laurence 
Shafton.  Shaft  on,  son  of  William  J.,  of  Gates  and 
Shaft  on.  Those  were  the  words  the  telephone  had 
squeaked  out  quite  plainly.  And  Shafton.  Mr. 
Shafton.  That  was  the  name  Mark  had  called  the  guy 
with  the  car  at  the  parsonage.    Mr.  Shafton.    The  same 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  187 

guy,  of  course.  Bah !  What  a  mess  he  had  made  of  it  all. 
Got  Mark  kidnapped,  landed  that  sissy-guy  on  the  Severns 
for  no  knowing  how  long,  and  perhaps  helped  to  tangle 
Mark  up  in  a  murder  case.  Aw  Gee!  There's  the  train! 
What  could  he  do?  That  rich  guy!  Well,  there  wasn't 
anything  to  that.  He  would  get  out  as  soon  as  Mark  got 
his  car  fixed  up  and  never  know  he  had  been  kidnapped. 
And  what  was  he,  Billy,  waiting  here  for  anyway?  Just 
a  chance !  Just  to  see  whether  Pat  and  Sam  had  found  out 
yet  that  their  quarry  had  vanished.  Just  to  wonder  what 
had  become  of  Link  and  Shorty. 

The  trains  came  and  went,  and  the  hush  settled  down 
once  more  at  the  station.  From  where  he  lay,  hidden 
under  a  ledge,  with  a  thick  growth  of  laurel  and  sumac 
between  him  and  the  world,  Billy  could  not  see  the  station 
platform,  and  had  no  means  of  telling  whether  Pat  was 
about  or  not. 

He  had  lain  still  a  long  time  and  was  beginning  to  think 
that  his  trip  had  been  in  vain,  when  he  heard  a  soft 
crackling  of  the  twigs  above  him,  a  heavy  tread  crashing 
through  the  bushes,  a  puffing  snorting  breath  from  the 
porpoise-like  Pat,  and  he  held  his  own  breath  and  lay  very 
still.  Suppose  Pat  should  take  a  new  trail  and  discover 
his  hiding  place  ?  His  heart  pounded  with  great  dull  thuds. 
But  Pat  slid  heavily  down  to  the  little  clearing  below 
him,  fumbled  a  moment  with  his  key,  and  then  in  a  gruff 
guarded  voice  called : 

"  Hullo!  Hullo!  Sam?  That  you?  Yes,  aw'right!  Yes, 
aw'right !  How's  things  ?  What  ?  Hell's  to  pay  ?  Whaddaya 
mean  hell  ?  Ain't  you  gonta  put  it  over  ?  After  all  my  trouble 
you  ain't  a  gonta  let  that  million  slip  through?  What?  Oh! 
Who  ?  The  Valet  ?  He's  beat  it,  has  he  ?  Whaddaya  mean  ? 
He  took  'em?  He  took  the  pearls  an'  diamonds?  Well, 
Em'ruls  then!  What's  tha  diffrunce?  We  ain't  gottum 
have  we  ?    Oh,  bonds  too !    Well,  whattya  gonta  do  about 


188  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

it?  Move  him?  What,  the  rich  guy?  Move  him  where? 
Why?  We  ain'ta  gonta  run  no  more  risks.  Link  an' 
Shorty  are  sore  'za  pup  when  they  come.  I  don't  think 
they'll  Stan'  for  it.  Well,  where'll  ya  move  him?  Who? 
Shorty?  Oh,  Link?  Both?  Well,  I  ain't  seen  'em.  I  tol' 
^em  to  keep  good  an'  far  away  from  me.  I  don't  build 
on  loosin'  this  job  just  now.  See?  What?  It's  in  the 
papers  a'ready?  You  don't  say!  Well,  who  you  figger 
done  that  ?  That  Valet  ?  Well,  where's  the  harm  ?  Can't 
you  work  it  all  the  better  ?  We  got  the  guy,  ain't  we  ?  He 
ain't  gottim  that's  certain.  We  c'n  deliver  the  goods,  so 
we  get  the  reward.  How  much  reward  they  offerin  ?  You 
don't  say!  Well,  I  should  say,  get  in  yer  work  soon  'fore 
we  get  caught.  Aw' right!  I'm  with  ya.  Well,  s'long! 
I'll  be  down  here  at  nine  sharp.  Take  a  trip  to  China  with 
ya  next  week  ef  ya  pull  it  off.  Aw'right!  Goobby!  "  and 
Pat  hung  up  and  puffed  his  way  up  the  hill  again,  leaving 
Billy  drenched  with  perspiration  and  filled  with  vague 
plans,  and  deep  anxiety.  He  had  got  a  clue  but  what  good 
was  it?  How  could  he  work  it  to  the  salvation  of  Mark? 
He  could  easily  put  the  sissy  over  at  the  parsonage  wise, 
do  him  a  good  turn,  save  his  dad  some  money,  but  what 
good  would  that  do  Mark?  Mark  needed  to  establish  an 
alibi,  he  could  see  that  with  half  an  eye,  but  how  would 
anything  Billy  knew  help  that  along  unless — unless  he  told 
on  himself?  For  a  moment  a  long  trail  of  circumstances 
that  would  surely  follow  such  a  sacrificial  ordinance  ap- 
peared before  him  and  burned  into  his  soul,  most 
prominent  among  them  being  Aunt  Saxon,  hard  worked 
and  damp-pink-eyed,  crying  her  heart  out  for  the  boy  she 
had  tried  faithfully  to  bring  up.  And  Miss  Lynn.  How 
sad  her  eyes  would  grow  if  Billy  had  to  be  tried  and  sen- 
tenced to  prison.  Not  that  Billy  was  afraid  to  go  to 
prison,  in  fact  the  throught  of  it  as  an  experience  was 
rather  exhilirating  than  not,  but  he  was  afraid  to  have 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  189 

those  two  know  he  had  gone,  afraid  of  their  eyes,  their 
sad  eyes !  Yes,  and  he  was  afraid  of  the  thought  of  his 
own  ingratitude,  for  down  deep  in  his  heart  he  could  see 
a  long  line  of  things  Aunt  Saxon  had  done  for  him  that  she 
hadn't  been  obliged  to  do.  Going  without  a  new  winter 
coat  to  get  him  an  overcoat.  His  old  one  was  warm,  but 
his  arms  were  out  of  it  too  far  and  he  wouldn't  wear  it. 
Sitting  up  nights  the  time  he  drank  swamp  water  and 
had  the  fever!  That  was  fierce!  How  he  did  rag  her! 
And  how  patienty  she  bore  it !  The  scare  she  had  when 
the  dog  bit  him!  As  if  a  little  dog  bite  was  anything! 
Doggone  it,  why  were  women  such  fools ! 

And  now  this!  Billy  sat  up  with  a  jerk  and  shook 
himself  free  from  the  dead  moss  and  leaves,  wending  his 
way  sulkily  across  to  where  he  had  left  his  wheel,  and 
ponder  ing-pohdering.  "  Shaft  on !  "  There  ought  to  be 
something  there  to  work  on,  but  there  wasn't ! 

Meantime  Maril3ni  rode  hard  down  the  way  to 
Economy,  not  slowing  her  pony  till  they  reached  the  out- 
skirts of  Economy.  Her  mind  was  in  such  a  tumult  that 
she  felt  as  if  she  were  being  whirled  on  with  circumstances 
without  having  a  will  to  choose  one  thing  from  another. 
Mark!  The  unwelcome  guests!  Mark  and  Opal!  Mark 
and  Cherry!  Cherry!  The  Chief  of  PoHce !  Mark!  And 
yes.  Cherry !  She  was  on  her  way  to  see  Cherry!  But  what 
was  she  going  to  do  when  she  got  there,  and  how  was  she 
to  excuse  her  strange  visit  after  almost  five  years  since 
she  had  seen  the  child?  If  there  was  truth  in  the  rumor 
that  she  was  connected  with  a  shooting  affair  at  the  Blue 
Duck,  and  especially  if  there  was  truth  in  the  charge  that 
Mark  had  been  going  with  her,  would  it  not  seem  strange 
— perhaps  be  misconstrued  by  Cherry?  By  her  family? 
They  had  all  known  of  her  own  intimacy  with  Mark  in  the 
past.     She  shrank  from  the  idea.     Yet  Marilyn  Severn 


190  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

had  not  been  brought  up  to  regard  public  opinion  when 
it  was  a  question  of  doing  something  that  ought  to  be  done. 
The  only  question  was,  was  it  really  something  that  ought 
to  be  done  or  was  she  letting  Billy  influence  her  unduly? 
Billy  was  shrewd.  He  knew  Mark.  He  knew  a  lot  more 
than  he  ever  told.  What  did  Billy  know  ?  How  she  wished 
she  had  asked  her  father's  advise  before  coming,  and  yet, 
if  she  had,  he  might  have  been  unduly  influenced  by  dread- 
ing to  have  her  put  herself  in  the  position  of  prying  into 
the  matter. 

As  she  rode  and  pondered  she  came  near  to  the  little 
house  on  the  village  street  where  Qierry  lived,  a  house  set 
out  plumb  with  the  sidewalk,  and  a  little  gate  at  the  side 
to  go  round  to  the  back  door  where  the  family  lived, 
the  front  room  being  the  tailor  shop.  As  she  drew  near 
she  looked  up  and  was  sure  she  saw  Cherry  in  a  short 
narrow  skirt  and  an  old  middy  blouse  scurrying  through 
the  gate  to  the  back  door,  and  her  heart  thumped  so  hard 
she  was  almost  tempted  to  ride  on  to  the  store  first  before 
making  her  call.  But  something  in  her  that  always  held 
her  to  a  task  until  it  was  completed  forced  her  to  dismount 
and  knock  at  the  door. 

It  seemed  long  to  wait  with  her  heart  thumping  so, 
and  why  did  it  thump?  She  found  herself  praying,  "  O 
God,  show  me  what  to  say !  "  and  then  the  door  was  open  a 
crack  and  a  sharp  wizened  face  with  a  striking  resemblance 
to  Cherry's  bold  little  beauty,  was  thrust  at  her.  It  must 
be  Cherry's  mother.    Of  course  it  was ! 

"  Mr.  Fenner  ain't  in  the  shop !  "  said  the  woman, 
"  He  can't  do  nothin  to-day.    He's  sick  1 " 

Marilyn  smiled: 

"But  I  wanted  to  see  Cherry,"  she  said,  "  Aren't  you 
her  mother?  Don't  you  remember  me?  I'm  Marilyn 
Severn,  her  old  music  teacher.    Is  Cherry  in?  " 

A  frightened  look  passed  over  the  woman's  face  as  she 


THE  CITY  OF  FIEE  191 

scanned  the  sweet  face  before  her,  and  then  a  wily  ex- 
pression darted  into  her  eyes : 

"  Oh,"  she  said  with  a  forced  smirk,  "  Yes,  Miss 
Marilyn.  Excuse  me  fer  not  recognizing  you.  YouVe 
grown  a  lot.  Why  no,  Cherry  ain't  at  home  this  morning. 
She'll  be  awful  sorry  not  to  see  you.  She  thought  a  lot 
of  you,  she  did.  She  got  on  so  well  with  you  in  her  music 
too.  I  says  to  her  the  other  day,  I  says  Cherry,  I  hear  Miss 
Marilyn  is  home  again,  you'll  have  to  take  up  yer  music 
again,  and  she  says  yes,  she  guessed  she  would.  She'll 
be  round  some  day  to  see  you.  Sorry  I  can't  ask  you  in, 
but  Mr.  Fenner's  pretty  sick.  Oh,  just  the  grip  I  guess. 
He'll  soon  be  all  right." 

She  began  to  realize  that  the  woman  was  in  a  hurry  to 
get  rid  of  her  and  she  hastened  away,  relieved  yet  puzzled 
at  the  whole  affair.  She  rode  down  into  the  village  me- 
chanically and  bought  a  spool  of  silk  and  the  coffee  strainer 
which  had  been  her  legitimate  errand  to  the  village,  and 
turning  back  had  scarcely  passed  the  last  house  before  she 
saw  the  Chief's  car  coming  toward  her,  and  Mark,  his  face 
white  and  haggard,  looking  out  from  the  back  seat.  He 
drew  back  as  he  recognized  her,  and  tried  to  hide,  and  she 
rode  on  with  only  a  passing  bow  which  comprehended  the 
whole  car;  but  she  was  aware  of  Mark's  eyes  upon  her, 
steadily,  watching  her.  She  would  have  known  he  was 
watching  her  from  the  darkness  of  the  back  seat  if  her  own 
eyes  had  been  shut.  What  was  it  all  about  and  what  were 
they  doing  to  Mark  I 


XVIII 

The  last  house  in  the  village  on  the  road  to  Economy 
was  the  Harricutt's.  It  was  built  of  gray  cement  blocks 
that  the  elder  had  taken  for  a  bad  debt,  and  had  neither 
vine  nor  blossom  to  soften  its  grimness.  Its  windows  were 
supplied  with  green  holland  shades,  and  its  front  door- 
yard  was  efficiently  manned  with  plum  trees  and  a  peach, 
while  the  back  yard  was  given  over  to  vegetables.  Elder 
Harricutt  walked  to  Economy  every  day  to  his  office  in 
the  Economy  bank.  He  said  it  kept  him  in  good  condition 
physically.  His  wife  was  small  and  prim  with  little  quick 
prying  eyes  and  a  false  front  that  had  a  tendency  to  go 
askew.  She  wore  bonnets  with  strings  and  her  false  teeth 
didn't  quite  fit;  they  clicked  as  she  talked.  She  kept  a 
watch  over  the  road  at  all  times  and  very  little  ever  got  by 
her  unnoticed. 

In  wholesome  contrast  next  door  was  the  trim  little 
white  cottage  where  Tom  McMertrie  and  his  mother 
Christie  lived,  smothered  in  vines  and  ablaze  with  ger- 
aniums all  down  the  front  walk.  And  below  that,  almost 
facing  the  graveyard  was  a  little  green  shingled  bungalow. 
Mary  Rafferty  kept  her  yard  aglow  with  phlox,  verbenas 
and  pansies,  and  revelled  in  vines  and  flowering  shrubs. 

These  two  women  were  wonderful  friends,  though 
forty  years  marched  between  them.  Mary's  hair  was  black 
as  a  crow's  wing  above  her  great  pansy-blue  eyes  with 
their  long  curHng  lashes,  while  Christie's  hair  was  sandy 
silver  and  her  tongue  full  of  brrrs.  They  had  opposite 
pantry  windows  on  the  neighboring  sides  of  their  houses, 
where  they  often  talked  of  a  morning  while  Christie 
moulded  her  sweet  loaves  of  bread  or  mixed  scones  and 
Mary  made  tarts  and  pies  and  cake  for  Jim's  supper. 

192 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  19S 

Somehow  without  much  being  said  about  it  they  had 
formed  a  combination  against  their  hard  Httle  knot  of  a 
neighbor  behind  the  holland  shades. 

The  first  house  on  the  side  street  that  ran  at  right  angles 
to  the  main  thoroughfare,  just  below  Rafferty's,  was  Dun- 
cannon's.  A  picket  fence  at  the  side  let  into  the  vegetable 
gardens  of  the  three,  and  the  quiet  little  Mrs.  Duncannon 
w^ith  the  rippley  brown  hair  and  soft  brown  eyes  often 
slipped  through  and  made  a  morning  call  under  cover  of 
the  kindly  pole  beans  that  hid  her  entrances  and  exits  per- 
fectly from  any  green  holland  shaded  windows  that  might 
be  open  that  way.  Jane  Duncannon  formed  a  third  in 
this  little  combination. 

On  the  Monday  morning  following  the  session  meeting 
Mary  Rafferty  and  Christie  McMertrie  were  at  their  re- 
spective pantry  windows  flinging  together  some  toothsome 
delicacies  for  the  evening  meal,  that  all  might  move 
smoothly  during  the  busy  day. 

A  neat  line  of  flopping  clothes  glimmered  in  each  back 
yard  over  the  trim  "  green  "  that  stretched  across  in  front 
of  the  back  door,  and  the  irons  were  on  in  both  kitchens 
preparing  for  a  finish  as  soon  as  a  "  piece  "  should  show 
signs  of  dry. 

"  Hev  ye  haird  whut  the  extra  session  meetin'  was 
called  for,  Mary?"  asked  the  older  woman  looking  up 
from  her  mixing  bowl.  "  Tom  went  to  the  mill  to  tak 
the  place  of  the  noight  watchman.  His  feyther's  dyin'  ye 
ken,  and  Tom's  not  come  by  yet.  I  thot  ye  might 
hev  haird." 

Mary  lifted  her  eyes  with  troubled  glance : 

"  Not  yet,"  she  said,  "  but  I'm  thinkin  of  running  over 
to  Duncannons  as  soon  as  I  get  these  pies  in  the  oven. 
The  clothes  won't  be  dry  for  a  while,  an'  I'll  take  my  pan 
of  peas  to  shell.  She'll  know  of  course.  Maybe  it's 
nothing  much, — ^but  Jim  said  they  held  up  Mark  Carter 

13 


194  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

and  made  him  come  in.  It  was  ten  minutes  of  ten  before 
he  got  away — !  You  don't  suppose  anybody's  taken  the 
gossip  to  the  session  do  you?" 

"  There's  one  we  know  well  would  be  full  cawpable  of 
the  same,"  affirmed  Christie  patting  her  biscuits  into  place 
and  tucking  the  bread  cloth  deftly  over  them,  "But  I'd 
be  sorry  to  see  a  meenister  an'  a  session  as  wud  be  held  up 
by  one  poor  whimperin'  little  elder  of  the  like  of  him." 

"  Mr.  Severn  won't,  I'm  sure  o'  that ! "  said  Mary 
trustingly,  "  but  there  comes  Mrs.  Duncannon  now,  I'll  run 
over  and  see  what's  in  the  wind." 

Mrs.  Duncannon  had  grown  a  smile  on  her  gentle  face 
that  was  hke  as  two  peas  to  her  husband's  wide  kindly 
grin,  but  there  was  no  smile  on  her  face  this  morning  as 
she  greeted  her  two  friends,  and  dropped  into  a  chair  by 
the  door  of  Christie's  immaculate  kitchen,  and  her  soft 
brown  eyes  were  snapping :  She  had  an  air  of  carrying 
kindly  mysterious  explosives : 

"  Did  ye  hear  that  the  old  ferret  held  up  Mark  Carter 
last  night  and  as  good  as  called  him  a  murderer  in  the  face 
of  the  whole  session  ?  "  she  asked  breathlessly. 

"  And  whut  said  our  meenister  to  thot  ? "  in- 
quired Christie. 

Jane  Duncannon  flashed  her  a  twinkle  of  appreciation : 

"He  just  clapped  the  senior  elder  in  the  chair  as  neat  as 
a  pin  in  a  pincushion  an'  moved  an  expression  of  confi- 
dence, w^mo^r  confidence  was  the  word — !  " 

"  Mmmmmmmm !  I  thot  as  much ! "  commented 
Christie,  "  The  blessed  mon !  " 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad!"  sighed  Mary  Rafferty  sinking 
into  a  chair,  "  Jim  thinks  the  sun  rises  and  sets  in  Mark 
Carter.  They  were  kids  together  you  know.  He  says 
people  don't  know  Mark.  And  he  said  if  they  turned  Mark 
down  at  the  church  now,  if  they  didn't  stand  by  him  in 
his  trouble,  he  had  no  more  use  for  their  religion !  " 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  195 

V 

"  Don't  you  believe  it,  Mary  Rafferty !  Jim  Rafferty 
loves  the  very  ground  the  meenister  walks  on !  " 

"What  was  that?"  exclaimed  Jane  Duncannon  run- 
ning to  the  side  window.  "  A  strange  car !  Mary,  come 
here!    Is  that  the  Chief  of  Police  from  Economy?  " 

Mary  darted  to  the  window  followed  by  the 
elder  woman: 

"  Yes,  it  is ! "  she  exclaimed  drawing  back  aghast, 
*'  You  don't  suppose  he's  going  to  Carter's?  He  wouldn't 
do  that  would  he  ?" 

"  He  huz  to  do  his  dooty,  doesnt  he?  "  mused  Christie, 
"  But  thot's  not  say  in'  he  hikes  it,  child !  " 

"  Well,  he  might  find  a  way  not  to  frighten 
his  mother — !  " 

Mrs.  Duncannon  stretched  her  neck  to  see  if  he  was 
really  stopping  at  the  parsonage,  and  Christie  murmured : 
"Perhaps  he  will.'^ 

The  little  group  lingered  a  moment,  till  Mary  be- 
thought her  of  her  pies  in  the  oven  and  the  three  drifted 
thriftily  back  to  their  morning  tasks,  albeit  with  mind  and 
heart  down  in  the  village. 

Presently  on  the  glad  morning  air  sounded  again  the 
chug  chug  of  the  motor,  bringing  them  sharply  back  to 
their  windows.  Yes,  there  was  the  Chief's  car  again.  And 
Mark  Carter  with  white  haggard  face  sat  in  the  back  seat ! 
Apprehension  flew  to  the  soul  of  each  loyal  woman. 

But  before  the  sound  of  the  Chief's  motor  bearing 
Mark  Carter  Economyward  had  passed  out  of  hearing, 
Jane  Duncannon  in  a  neat  brown  dress  with  a  little  round 
brown  ribboned  hat  set  trimly  on  her  rippley  hair,  and  a 
little  round  basket  on  her  arm  covered  daintily  with  a 
white  napkin,  was  nipping  out  her  tidy  front  gate  between 
the  sunflowers  and  asters  and  tripping  down  Maple 
street  as  if  it  had  been  on  her  mind  to  go  ever  since 
Saturday  night. 

Even  before  Mary  Rafferty  had  turned  from  her  Not- 


196  THE  CITY  OF  FIBE 

tingham  laced  parlor  window  and  gone  with  swift  steps  to 
her  kitchen  door  Christie  McMertrie  stood  on  her  back 
step  with  her  sunbonnet  on  and  a  glass  of  jelly  wrapped  in 
tissue  paper  in  her  hand: 

"  She's  glimpsed  'em,"  she  whispered  briefly,  with  a 
nod  toward  the  holland  shades,  "  an'  she's  up  in  her  side 
bedroom  putt  in'  on  her  Sunday  bunnit.  She'll  be  oot  the 
door  in  another  two  meenits,  the  little  black  crow !  If  we 
bide  in  the  fields  we  can  mak  Carters'  back  stoop  afore  she 
gets  much  past  the  tchurch !  " 

Mary  Rafferty  caught  up  her  pan  of  peas,  dashed  them 
into  a  basket  that  hung  on  the  wall  by  the  door,  and  bare- 
headed as  she  was  hastened  out  through  the  garden  after 
her  friend  for  all  the  world  as  if  she  were  going  to  pick 
more  peas.  Down  the  green  lane  between  the  bean  poles 
they  hurried  through  the  picket  gate,  pushing  aside  the  big 
gray  Duncannon  cat  who  basked  in  the  sun  under  a  pink 
hollyhock  with  a  Duncannon  smile  on  its  gray  whiskers 
like  the  rest  of  the  family. 

"  Jane !  Jane  Duncannon !  "  called  Christie  McMertrie. 
But  the  hollow  echoes  in  the  tidy  kitchen  flung  back 
emptily,  and  the  plate  of  steaming  cinnamon  buns  on  the 
white  scrubbed  table  spoke  as  plainly  as  words  could  have 
done  that  no  one  was  at  home. 

"She's  gone!"  ^ 

The  two  hurried  around  the  house,  tlirough  the  front 
gate,  across  the  street  with  a  quick  glance  up  and  down  to 
be  sure  that  the  Petrie  babies  playing  horse  in  the  next 
yard  were  their  only  observers,  and  then  ducking  under 
the  bars  of  the  fence  they  scuttled  down  a  slope,  crossed 
a  trickle  of  a  brook  that  hurried  creekward,  and  up  the 
opposite  bank.  Behind  Little's  barn  they  paused  to  glance 
back.  Some  one  was  coming  out  the^  Harricutt  door,  some 
one  wearing  a  bonnet  and  a  black  veil.  They  hurried  on. 
There  were  two  more  fences  separating  the  meadows. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  197 

Mary  went  over  and  Christie  between.  They  made  quick 
work  of  the  rest  of  the  way  and  crept  panting  through  the 
hedge  at  the  back  of  Carter's  just  as  Jane  Duncannon 
swung  open  the  Httle  gate  in  front  with  a  glimpse  back  up 
the  street  in  triumph  and  a  breath  of  reHef  that  she  had 
won.  By  only  so  much  as  a  hft  of  her  lashes  and  a  light- 
ing of  her  soft  brown  eyes  did  she  recognize  and  incor- 
porate the  other  two  in  her  errand,  and  together  the  three 
entered  the  Carter  house  by  the  side  entrance,  with  a  neigh- 
borly tap  and  a  call :   "  Miz  Carter,  you  home  ?  " 

Quick  nervous  steps  overhead,  a  muffled  voice  calling 
catchily,  "Yes,  I'm  coming,  just  set  down,  won't  you?" 
and  they  dropped  into  three  dining-room  chairs  and  drew 
breath,  mopping  their  warm  faces  with  their  handkerchiefs 
and  trying  to  adjust  their  minds  to  the  next  move. 

Their  hostess  gave  them  no  time  to  prepare  a  program. 
She  came  hurriedly  down  stairs,  obviously  anxious,  openly 
with  every  nerve  on  the  quivive,  and  they  saw  at  once  that 
she  had  been  crying.  Her  hair  was  damp  about  her  fore- 
head as  if  from  hasty  ablution.  She  looked  from  one  to 
another  of  her  callers  with  a  frightened  glance  that  went 
beyond  them  as  if  looking  for  others  to  come,  as  she  paused 
in  the  doorway  puzzled. 

"  This  is  a  s'prise  party,  Miz  Carter,"  began  Jane  Dun- 
cannon  laughing,  "  We  all  brought  our  work  along  and 
can't  stay  but  a  minute,  but  we  got  an  idea  an'  couldn't 
keep  it  till  Ladies'  Aid.  You  got  a  minute  to  spare  ?  Go 
get  your  knitting  and  set  down.  Now!  It's  Miz' Severn's 
birthday  next  Sat' day  an'  we  thought  'twould  be  nice  to  get 
her  a  present.    What  do  you  think  about  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Carter  who  had  stood  tensely  in  the  doorway, 
her  fingers  whitely  gripping  the  woodwork,  her  face 
growitig  whiter  every  minute,  suddenly  relaxed  with  re- 
lief in  every  line  of  her  body,  and  bloomed  into  a  smile : 

"  Oh,  why,  is  it?    Of  course!    What'll  it  be?    Why 


198  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

couldn't  we  finish  that  sunburst  bed  quilt  we  started  last 
year  while  she  was  away?  If  we  all  get  at  it  I  think  we 
could  finish.  There's  some  real  fast  quilters  in  the  Aid. 
Wait,  till  I  get  my  apples  to  pare.  I  promised  Mark  I'd 
have  apple  sauce  for  lunch !  " 

A  quick  glance  went  from  eye  to  eye  and  a  look  of 
relief  settled  down  on  the  little  company.  She  expected 
Mark  home  for  lunch  then ! 

They  were  in  full  tide  of  talk  about  the  quilting  pat- 
tern when  a  knock  came  on  the  front  door,  and  Mary 
Rafferty  jumped  up  and  ran  to  open  it.  They  heard  the 
Harricutt  voice,  clear,  sharp,  incisive : 

"  I  came  to  sympathize — !  "  and  then  as  Mary  swung 
her  face  into  the  sunlight  the  voice  came  suddenly  up  as 
against  a  stone  wall  with  a  gasp  and  "  Oh,  it's  you! 
Where's  Mrs.  Carter  ?    I  wish  to  see  Mrs.  Carter." 

"  She's  right  back  in  the  dining-room,  Mrs.  Harricutt. 
Come  on  back.  We're  talking  over  how  to  celebrate  Miz 
Severn's  birthday.  Do  you  like  a  straight  quilting  or 
diamond,  Miz  Harricutt:.  It's  for  the  sunburst  coverlet 
you  know ! " 

"  The  sunburst  coverlet !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Harricutt 
irately,  as  though  somehow  it  were  an  indecent  subject  at 
such  a  time  as  this,  but  she  followed  Mary  back  to  the 
dining-room  with  a  sniff  of  curiosity.  She  fairly  gasped 
when  she  saw  Mrs.  Carter  with  her  small  sensitive  face 
bright  with  smiles : 

"  Just  take  that  chair  by  the  window,  Mrs.  Harricutt," 
she  said  affably,  "  and  excuse  me  f er  not  getting  up.  I've 
got  to  get  these  apples  on  the  fire,  for  I  promised  Mark 
some  apple  sauce  for  lunch,  and  he  likes  it  stone  cold." 

Mrs.  Harricutt  pricked  up  her  ears : 

"  Oh,  Mark  is  coming  home  for  lunch  then !  "  Her 
voice  was  cold,  sharp,  like  a  steel  knife  dipped  in  lemon 
juice.  There  was  a  bit  of  a  curl  on  the  tip  of  it  that  made 
one  wince  as  it  went  through  the  soul.    Little  Mrs.  Carter 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  1Q9 

flushed  painfully  under  her  sensitive  skin,  up  to  the  roots 
of  her  light  hair.  She  had  been  pretty  in  her  girlhood, 
and  Mark  had  her  coloring  in  a  stronger  way. 

"  Oh,  yes,  he's  coming  home  for  lunch,"  she  answered 
brightly,  glad  of  this  much  assurance.  "And  he  has  to 
have  it  early  because  he  has  to  drive  that  strange  young 
woman  from  the  parsonage  back  somewhere  down  in  New 
Jersey.  She  came  alone  by  herself  yesterday,  but  the 
mountain  passes  sort  of  scairt  her,  and  she  asked  Mark  to 
drive  back  with  her." 

"  Oh !  "  There  was  a  challenge  in  the  tone  that  called 
the  red  to  Mrs.  Carter's  cheek  again.  But  Christie 
McMertrie's  soft  burring  tongue  slid  in  smoothly : 

"  What  wad  ye  think  o'  the  briar  pattern  around  the 
edge?  I  know  it's  some  worruk,  but  it's  a  bonnie  border 
to  lie  under,  an'  it's  not  so  tedious  whan  there's  plenty  o' 
folks  to  tak  a  hand." 

They  carried  the  topic  along  with  a  whirl  then  and  Mrs. 
Harricutt  had  no  more  chance  to  harry  her  hostess.  Then 
suddenly  Mary  arose  in  a  panic : 

"  I  left  my  pies  in  the  oven!  "  she  cried,  "  They'll  be 
burned  to  a  crisp.  I  must  go.  Miz  Harricutt,  are  you 
going  along  now?  I'll  walk  with  you.  I  want  to  ask 
you  how  you  made  that  plum  jam  you  gave  me  a  taste  of 
the  9ther  day.  Jim  thinks  it  is  something  rare,  and  I'll 
have  to  be  making  some  or  he'll  never  be  satisfied,  that  is  if 
you  don't  mind — !  "  and  before  Mrs.  Carter  realized  what 
was  happening  Mary  had  marshalled  the  Harricutt  vulture 
down  the  street,  and  was  questioning  eagerly  about  meas- 
ures of  sugar  and  plums  and  lemon  peel  and  nuts : 

"  Now,"  said  Christie  setting  down  her  jelly  glass  that 
she  had  been  holding  all  this  time,  "  We'll  be  ganging  awa. 
There's  a  bit  jar  of  raspberry  jam  for  the  laddie  with  the 
bright  smile,  an'  you  think  it  over  and  run  up  and  say 
which  pattern  you  think  is  bonniest." 

"  It  was  just  beautiful  of  you  all  to  come — "  said  little 


200  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Mrs.  Carter  looking  from  one  to  another  in  painful  grati- 
tude— why  it*s  been  just  dear  for  you  to  run  in  this  way — " 

"  Yes,  a  regular  party !  "  said  Jane  Duncannon  squeez- 
ing her  hand  with  understanding.  *'  See,  Mary  has  left  her 
peas.  You'd  best  put  them  on  to  boil  for  Mark.  He'll 
be  coming  back  pretty  soon.  Come,  Christie,  wumman, 
it's  time  we  was  back  at  our  worruk ! "  and  they  hurried 
through  the  hedge  and  across  the  meadows  to  their  home 
once  more,  but  as  they  entered  the  Duncannon  gate  they 
marked  Billy  Gaston,  head  down,  pedalling  along  over 
on  Maple  Street,  his  jaws  keeping  rhythmic  time  with 
his  feet. 

One  hour  later  the  smooth  chug  of  a  car  that  was  not 
altogether  unfamiliar  to  their  ears  brought  those  four 
women  eagerly  to  their  respective  windows,  and  as  the  old 
clock  chimed  the  hour  of  noon  they  beheld  Mark  Carter 
driving  calmly  down  the  street  toward  his  own  home  in  his 
own  car.  His  own  car!  and  Billy  Gaston  lounging  lazily 
by  his  side  still  chewing  rhythmically. 

Mark's  Car!  Mark!  Billy!  Ah  Billy!  Three  of  them 
mused  with  a  note  of  triumph  in  their  eyes. 

And  Mrs.  Harricutt  as  she  rolled  her  Sunday  bonnet 
strings  mused : 

"  Now,  how  in  the  world  did  that  Mark  Carter  g<tt  his 
own  car  down  to  Economy  when  he  went  up  with  the 
Chief?  He  had  it  down  here  this  morning,  I  know,  for 
I  saw  him  riding  round.  And  that  little  imp  of  a  Billy !  I 
wonder  why  he  always  tags  him  round!  Miss  Saxon 
ought  to  be  warned  about  that !  I'll  have  to  do  it !  But 
how  in  the  world  did  Mark  get  his  car?  " 

Billy  enjoyed  his  lunch  that  day,  a  bit  of  cold  chicken 
and  bread,  two  juicy  red  cheeked  apples,  and  an  unknown 
quantity  of  sugary  doughnuts  from  the  stone  crock  in 
the  pantry.  He  sat  on  the  side  step  munching  the  last 
doughnut  he  felt  he  could  possibly  swallow.     Mark  was 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  201 

home  and  all  was  well.  Himself  had  seen  the  impressive 
glance  that  passed  between  Mark  and  the  Chief  at  parting. 
The  Chief  trusted  Mark  that  was  plain.  Billy  felt  reas- 
sured. He  reflected  that  that  guy  Judas  had  been  pre- 
cipitate about  hanging  himself.  If  he  had  only  waited 
and  done  a  little  something  about  it  there  might  have  been 
a  different  ending  to  the  story.  It  was  sort  of  up  to  Judas 
anyway,  having  been  the  cause  of  the  trouble. 

With  this  virtuous  conclusion  Billy  wiped  the  sugar 
from  his  mouth,  mounted  his  wheel  and  went  forth  to 
browse  in  familiar  and  much  neglected  pastures. 

He  eyed  the  Carter  house  as  he  slid  by.  Mrs.  Carter 
was  placidly  shaking  out  the  table  cloth  on  the  side  porch. 
Mark  had  eaten  his  apple  sauce  and  gone.  He  passed 
Browns,  Todds,  Bateses,  chasing  a  white  hen  that  had  some- 
how escaped  her  confines,  but  in  front  of  Joneses  he  sud- 
denly became  aware  of  the  blue  car  that  stood  in  front  of 
the  parsonage.  It  had  come  to  life  and  was  throbbing.  It 
,was  backing  toward  him  and  going  to  turn  around.  On 
the  sidewalk  leaning  on  a  cane  stood  the  obnoxious 
stranger  for  whose  presence  in  Sabbath  Valley  he,  Billy 
Gaston,  was  responsible.  He  lounged  at  ease  with  a 
smile  on  his  ugly  mug  and  acted  as  if  he  lived  there !  There 
was  nothing  about  his  appearance  to  suggest  his  near 
departure.  His  disabled  car  still  stood  silent  and  helpless 
beside  the  curb.    Aw  Gee! 

Billy  swerved  to  the  other  side  of  the  road  to  avoid  the 
blue  car  at  a  hair's  breadth,  but  as  it  turned  he  looked  up 
impudently  to  behold  the  strange  girl  with  the  flour  on 
her  face  and  the  green  baseball  bats  in  her  ears  smiling  up 
in,to  the  face  of  Mark  Carter,  who  was  driving.  Billy 
nearly  fell  off  his  wheel  and  under  the  car,  but  recovered 
his  balance  in  time  to  swerve  out  of  the  way  without  ap- 
parently having  been  observed  by  either  Mark  or  the  lady, 
and  shot  like  a  streak  down  the  road.  Beyond  the  church 


«02  THE  CITY  OF  FIKE 

he  drew  a  wide  curve  and  turned  in  at  the  graveyard,  cast- 
ing a  quick  furtive  eye  toward  the  parsonage,  where  he 
was  glad  not  to  discover  even  the  flutter  of  a  garment  to 
show  that  Lynn  Severn  was  about.  That  guy  was  there, 
but  Miss  Lynn  was  not  chasing  him.  That  was  as  it  should 
be.  He  breathed  a  sigh  from  his  heavy  heart  and  stole 
sadly,  back  to  the  old  mossy  stone  where  so  many  of  his 
hfe  problems  had  been  thought  out.  Still,  that  guy  was 
there!  He  had  the  advantage!  And  Mark  and  that  lady! 
Bah!  He  sat  down  to  meditate  on  Judas  and  his  sins. 
It  seemed  that  life  was  just  about  as  disappointing  as  it 
could  be !  His  rough  young  hand  leaned  hard  against  the 
grimy  old  stone  till  the  half  worn  lettering  hurt  his  flesh 
and  he  shifted  his  position  and  lifted  his  hand.  There  on 
the  palm  were  the  quaint  old  letters,  imprinted  in  the  flesh, 
"Blessed  are  the  dead — "  Gosh  yes!  Weren't  they? 
Judas  had  been  right  after  all.  "  Aw  Gee !  "  he  said  aloud, 
"  Whatta  fool  I  bin !  "  He  glanced  down  at  the  stone  as 
he  rubbed  the  imprint  from  the  fleshy  part  of  his  hand. 
The  rest  of  the  text  caught  his  eye.  "  Blessed  are  the 
dead  that  die  in  the  Lord !  "  There  was  a  catch  in  that  of 
course.  It  wasn't  blessed  if  you  didn't  die  in  the  Lord. 
"  In  the  Lord  "  meant  that  you  didn't  do  anything  Judas- 
like. He  understood.  The  people  who  didn't  die  in  the 
Lord  weren't  blessed.  They  didn't  go  to  heaven,  whatever 
heaven  was.  They  went  to  hell.  Heaven  had  never 
seemed  very  attractive  to  Billy  when  he  thought  of  it 
casually,  and  he  had  taken  it  generally  for  granted  that  he 
being  a  boy  was  naturally  destined  for  the  other  place.  In 
fact  until  he  knew  Lynn  Severn  he  had  always  told  himself 
calmly  that  he  expected  to  go  to  hell  sometime,  it  had 
seemed  the  manly  thing  to  do.  Most  men  to  his  mind  were 
preparing  for  hell.  It  seemed  the  masculine  place  of  final 
destiny,   Heaven  was  for  women.   He  had  ventured  some 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  203 


f  this  philosophy  on  his  aunt  once  in  a  particularly  strenu- 
ous time  when  she  had  told  him  that  he  couldn't  expect 
the  reward  of  the  righteous  if  he  continued  in  his  present 
ways,  but  she  had  been  so  horrified,  and  wept  so  long  and 
bitterly  that  he  hadn't  ever  had  the  nerve  to  try  it  again. 
And  since  Marilyn  Severn  had  been  his  teacher  he  had 
known  days  when  he  would  almost  be  willing  to  go  to 
heaven — for  her  sake.  He  had  also  suspected,  at  times, 
that  Mr.  Severn  was  fully  as  much  of  a  man  as  Mark 
Carter,  although  Mark  was  his  own,  and  if  Mark  decided 
to  go  to  hell  Billy  felt  there  could  be  no  other  destiny 
for  himself. 

But  now,  face  to  face  with  realities,  Billy  suddenly 
began  to  realize  what  hell  was  going  to  be  like.  Billy  felt 
hell  surrounding  him.  Flames  could  not  beat  the  reproach 
that  now  flared  him  in  the  face  and  stung  him  to  the  quick 
with  his  own  sinfulness.  He,  Billy  Gaston,  Captain  of  the 
Sabbath  Valley  Base  Ball  team,  prospective  Captain  of  the 
Sabbath  Valley  Foot  Ball  team,  champion  runner,  and 
high  jumper,  champion  swimmer  and  boxer  of  the  boy's 
league  of  Monopoly  County,  friend  and  often  tolerated 
companion  of  Mark  Carter  the  great,  trusted  favorite  of 
his  beloved  and  saintly  Sunday  School  teacher,  was  in  hell! 
He  could  never  more  hold  up  his  head  and  walk  proud  of 
himself.  He  was  in  hell  at  fourteen  for  life,  and  by  his 
own  act !  And  Gosh  hang  it !  Hell  didn't  look  so  attractive 
in  the  near  vision  stretching  out  that  way  through  life,  and 
then  some,  as  it  had  before  he  faced  it.  He'd  rather  walk 
through  fire  somewhere  and  stand  some  chance  of  getting 
done  with  it  sometime.  "  Aw  Gee !  Gosh !  Whatta  fool 
I  bin!" 

And  then  he  set  himself  to  see  just  what  he  had  done, 
while  the  high  walls  of  sin  seemed  to  rise  closer  about  him, 


204  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

and  his  face  burned  with  the  heat  of  the  pit  into  which  he 
had  put  himself. 

There  was  that  guy  Shafton — sissyman ! — He  had  put 
him  in  the  parsonage  along  with  his  beloved  teacher !  If 
he  only  hadn't  taken  that  ten  dollars  or  listened  to  that  devil 
of  a  Pat,  he  wouldn't  have  put  up  that  detour  and  Shafton 
would  have  gone  on  his  way.  What  difference  if  he  had  got 
kidnapped  ?  His  folks  wouldda  bailed  him  out  with  their  old 
jewels  and  things.  Whaddid  anybody  want  of  jewels  for 
anyway?  Just  nasty  httle  bits  of  stone  and  glass!  Mark 
had  seen  the  guy  there  in  church.  Mark  didn't  like  it. 
He  knew  by  the  set  of  Mark's  mouth.  Of  course  Mark 
went  with  Cherry  sometimes,  but  then  that  was  different ! 
Lynn  was — well,  Lynn  was  Miss  Marilyn !  That  was  all 
there  was  about  it. 

And  if  he  hadn't  put  up  that  detour  Mark  would  have 
gone  home  that  night  before  twelve  and  his  mother  would 
have  known  he  was  home,  and  likely  other  people  would 
have  seen  him,  and  been  able  to  prove  he  wasn't  out  shoot- 
ing anybody,  and  then  they  wouldn't  have  told  all  those 
awful  things  about  him.  Of  course  now  Mark  was  safe, 
of  course,  but  then  it  wasn't  good  to  have  things  like  that 
said  about  Mark.  It  was  fierce  to  have  a  thing  like  that 
session  meeting  to  remember !  He  wanted  to  kill  that  old 
ferret  of  a  Harricutt  whenever  he  thought  about  it.  Then 
he  would  be  a  murderer,  and  be  hanged,  and  he  wouldn't 
care  if  he  did  mebbe.    Aw  Gee! 

A  meadow  lark  suddenly  pierced  the  sky  with  its  wild 
sweet  note  high  in  the  air  somewhere,  and  Billy  wondered 
with  a  sick  thud  of  his  soul  how  larks  dared  to  sing  in  a 
world  like  this  where  one  could  upset  a  whole  circle  of 
friends  by  a  single  little  turn  of  finance  that  he  hadn't 
meant  anything  wrong  by  at  all  ?  The  bees  droned  around 
the  honeysuckle  that  billowed  over  the  little  iron  fence 
about  a  family  burying  lot,  and  once  Lynn  Severn's  laugh 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  205 

— not  her  regular  laugh,  but  a  kind  of  a  company  polite 
one — echoed  lightly  across  to  his  ears  and  his  face  dropped 
into  his  hands.  He  almost  groaned.  Billy  Gaston  was  at 
the  lowest  ebb  he  had  ever  been  in  his  young  life,  and  his 
conscience,  a  thing  he  hadn't  suspected  he  had,  and 
wouldn't  have  owned  if  he  had,  had  risen  up  within  him  to 
accuse  him,  and  there  seemed  no  way  on  earth  to  get  rid 
of  it.  A  conscience  wasn't  a  manly  thing  according  to  his 
code,  yet  here  he  was,  he  Billy  Gaston,  with  a  conscience ! 
It  was  ghastly! 


XIX 


Laurie  Shafton  had  caught  Lynn  as  she  came  down 
the  stairs  with  a  bit  of  sewing"  in  her  hand  to  give  Naomi 
a  direction  from  her  mother,  and  had  begged  her  to  come 
out  on  the  porch  and  talk  to  him.  He  pleaded  that  he 
was  lonesome,  and  that  it  was  her  duty  as  hostess  to  amuse 
him  for  a  while. 

Lynn  had  no  relish  for  talking  with  the  guest.  Her 
heart  was  too  sore  to  care  to  talk  with  any  one.  But  her 
innate  courtesy,  and  natural  gentleness  finally  yielded  to 
his  pleading,  for  Laurie  had  put  on  a  humility  that  was 
almost  becoming,  and  made  her  seem  really  rude  to  refuse. 

She  made  him  sit  down  in  the  hammock  at  the  far  end, 
however,  and  insisted  on  herself  taking  the  little  rocker 
quite  near  the  front  door.  She  knew  her  father  would 
soon  be  returning  from  some  parish  calls  and  would  relieve 
her,  so  she  settled  herself  with  the  bit  of  linen  she  was 
hemstitching  and  prepared  to  make  the  best  of  it. 

"  It's  a  shame  my  car  is  out  of  commission  yet,''  began 
Laurie  settling  back  in  the  hammock  and  by  some  strange 
miracle  refraining  from  lighting  a  cigarette.  It  wouldn't 
have  entered  his  head  that  Lynn  would .  have  minded. 
He  didn't  know  any  girls  objected  to  smoking.  But  this 
girl  interested  him  strangely.  He  wasn't  at  all  sure  but  it 
was  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight.  He  had  always  been  look- 
ing for  that  to  happen  to  him.  He  hoped  it  had.  It  would 
be  such  a  delightful  experience.  He  had  tried  most  of  the 
other  kinds. 

"Yes,  it  is  too  bad  for  you  to  be  held  up  in  your 
journey  this  way,"  sympathized  Lynn  heartily,  "but  father 
says  the  blacksmith  is  going  to  fix  you  up  by  to-morrow  he 
hopes.    Those  bearings  will  likely  come  to-night." 
20e 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  207 

"  Oh,  but  it  has  been  a  dandy  experience.  I'm  cer- 
tainly glad  it  happened.  Think  what  I  should  have  missed 
all  my  life,  not  knowing  you! " 

He  paused  and  looked  soul  fully  at  Lynn  waiting  for 
an  appreciative  glance  from  her  fully  occupied  eyes,  but 
Lynn  seemed  to  have  missed  the  point  entirely : 

"  I  should  think  you  might  have  well  afforded  to  lose 
the  experience  of  being  held  up  in  a  dull  little  town  that 
couldn't  possibly  be  of  the  slightest  interest  to  you,"  she 
said  dryly,  with  the  obvious  idea  of  making  talk. 

"  Oh,  but  I  think  it  is  charming,"  he  said  lightly!  "  I 
hadn't  an  idea  there  was  such  a  place  in  the  world  as  this. 
It's  ideal,  don't  you  know,  so  secluded  and  absolutely  rest- 
ful. I'm  having  a  dandy  time,  and  you  people  have  been 
just  wonderful  to  me.  I  think  I  shall  come  back  often  if 
you'll  let  me." 

"  I  can't  imagine  your  enjoying  it,"  said  Lynn  looking 
at  him  keenly,  "  It  must  be  so  utterly  apart  from  your  cus- 
tomary life.  It  must  seem  quite  crude  and  almost 
uncivilized  to  you." 

"  That's  just  it,  it's  so  charmingly  quaint.  I'm  bored 
to  death  with  Hfe  as  I'm  used  to  it.  I'm  always  seeking 
for  a  new  sensation,  and  I  seem  to  have  lighted  on  it  here 
all  unexpectedly.  I  certainly  hope  my  car  will  be  fixed  by 
morning.  If  it  isn't  I'll  telegraph  for  my  man  and  have 
him  bring  down  some  bearings  in  one  of  the  other  cars 
and  fix  me  up.  I'm  determined  to  take  you  around  a 
bit  and  have  you  show  me  the  country.  I  know  it  would 
be  great  under  your  guidance." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Lynn  coolly,  "  But  I  haven't  much 
time  for  pleasuring  just  now,  and  you  will  be  wanting  to 
go  on  your  way — " 

He  flushed  with  annoyance.  He  was  not  accustomed 
to  being  baffled  in  this  way  by  any  girl,  but  he  had  sense 


^08  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

enough  to  know  that  only  by  patience  and  humiHty  could 
he  win  any  notice  from  her. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  want  to  linger  a  bit  and  let  this  doctor 
finish  up  this  ankle  of  mine.  It  isn't  fair  to  go  away  to 
another  doctor  before  I'm  on  my  feet  again. 

He  thought  she  looked  annoyed,  but  she  did  not  answer. 

**  Did  you  ever  ride  in  a  racer?  "  he  asked  suddenly, 
"  I'll  teach  you  to  drive.    Would  you  Hke  that?  " 

*'  Thank  you,"  she  said  pleasantly,  "  but  that  wouldn't 
be  necessary,  I  know  how  to  drive." 

He  almost  thought  there  was  a  twinkle  of  mischief  in 
her  eye : 

"  You  know  how  to  drive!  But  you  haven't  a  car? 
Oh,  I  suppose  that  young  Carter  taught  you  to  drive  his," 
he  said  with  chagrin.  He  was  growing  angry.  He  began 
to  suspect  her  of  playing  with  him.  After  all,  even  if  she 
was  engaged  to  that  chap,  he  had  gone  off  with  Opal  quite 
willingly  it  would  appear.  Why  should  he  and  she  not 
have  a  little  fling? 

**  No,"  said  Marilyn,  "Mr.  Carter  did  not  have  a  car 
until  he  went  away  from  Sabbath  Valley.  I  learned  while 
I  was  in  college." 

"  Oh,  you've  been  to  college !  "  the  young  man  sat  up 
with  interest,  "  I  thought  there  was  something  too 
sophisticated  about  you  to  have  come  out  of  a  place  like 
this.    You  had  a  car  while  you  were  in  college  I  suppose." 

Lynn's  eyes  were  dancing : 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  '  dump  '  like  this  ?  That's  what 
your  tone  said,"  she  laughed,  "  and  only  a  minute  ago  you 
were  saying  how  charming  it  was.  No,  I  had  no  car  in 
college,  I  was — "    But  he  interrupted  her  eagerly : 

"  Now,  you  are  misunderstanding  me  on  purpose,"  he 
'declared  in  a  hurt  tone.  "I  think  this  is  an  ideal  spot  off 
in  the  hills  this  way,  the  quaintest  little  Utopia  in  the  world, 
but  of  course  you  know  you  haven't  the  air  of  one  who 
had  never  been  out  of  the  hills,  and  the  sweet  sheltered 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  209 

atmosphere  of  this  village.  Tell  me,  when  and  where  did 
you  drive  a  car,  and  I'll  see  if  I  can't  give  you  one  better 
for  a  joy  ride." 

Lynn  looked  up  placidly  and  smiled : 

"  In  New  York,"she  said  quietly,  "  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war,  and  afterward  in  France." 

Laurie  Shaft  on  sat  up  excitedly,  the  color  flushing  into 
his  handsome  face : 

"  Were  you  in  France  ?  "  he  said  admiringly,  "  Well,  I 
might  have  loiown.  I  saw  there  was  something  different 
about  you.    Y.  M.,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Lynn,  "  Salvation  Army.  My  father  has 
been  a  friend  of  the  Commander's  all  his  life.  She  knew 
that  we  believed  in  all  their  principles.  There  were  only  a 
very  few  outsiders,  those  whom  they  knew  well,  allowed 
to  go  with  them.    I  was  one." 

"  Well,"  said  Laurie,  eyeing  her  almost  embarrassedly, 
"  You  girls  made  a  great  name  for  yourselves  with  your 
doughnuts  and  your  pies.  The  only  thing  I  had  against 
you  was  that  you  didn't  treat  us  officers  always  the  way  we 
ought  to  have  been  treated.  But  I  suppose  there  were 
individual  exceptions.  I  went  into  a  hut  one  night  and 
tried  to  get  some  cigarettes  and  they  wouldn't  let  me 
have  any." 

"  No,  we  didn't  sell  cigarettes,"  said  Lynn  with  satis- 
faction, "  That  wasn't  what  we  were  there  for.  We  had  a 
few  for  the  wounded  and  dying  who  were  used  to  them 
and  needed  them  of  course,  but  we  didn't  sell  them." 

"  And  then  I  tried  to  get  some  doughnuts  and  coffee, 
but  would  you  believe  it,  they  wouldn't  let  me  have  any  till 
all  the  fellows  in  line  had  been  served.  They  said  I  had 
to  take  my  turn !  They  were  quite  insulting  about  it !  Of 
course  they  did  good,  but  they  ought  to  have  been  made  to 
understand  that  they  couldn't  treat  United  States  Officers 
that  way !  " 

"  Why  not  ?     Were  you  any  better  than  any  of  the 

14 


210  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

soldiers  ?  ''  she  asked  eyeing  him  calmly,  and  somehow  he 
seemed  to  feel  smaller  than  his  normal  estimate  of  himself. 

"  An  officer?  "  he  said  with  a  contemptuous  haughty 
light  in  his  eye. 

"  What  is  an  officer  but  the  servant  of  his  men?  "  asked 
Lynn.  "  Would  you  want  to  eat  before  them  when  they 
had  stood  hours  in  line  waiting?  They  who  had  all  the 
hard  work  and  none  of  the  honors?  " 

Laurie's  cheeks  were  flushed  and  his  eyes  angry : 

"  That's  rot !  "  he  said  rudely,  "  Where  did  you  get  it? 
The  officers  were  picked  from  the  cream  of  the  land.  They 
represent  the  great  Nation.  An  insult  to  them  is  an  insult 
to  the  Nation — !" 

Lynn  began  to  smile  impudently — ^and  her  eyes  were 
dancing  again. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Shaft  on,  you  must  not  forget 
I  was  there.  I  knew  both  officers  and  men.  I  admit  that 
some  of  the  officers  were  princely,  fit  men  to  represent  a 
great  Qiristian  Nation,  but  some  of  them  again  were  well 
— ^the  scum  of  the  earth,  rather  than  the  cream.  Mr. 
Shaft  on  it  does  not  make  a  man  better  than  his  fellows  to 
be  an  officer,  and  it  does  not  make  him  fit  to  be  an  officer 
just  because  his  father  is  able  to  buy  him  a  commission." 

Laurie  flushed  angrily  again : 

"  My  father  did  not  buy  me  a  commission !  "  he  said 
indignantly,  "  I  went  to  a  training  camp  and  won  it.*' 

'*  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Shafton,  I  meant  nothing 
personal,  but  I  certainly  had  no  use  for  an  officer  who  came 
bustling  in  on  those  long  lines  of  weary  soul-sick  boys  just  ; 
back  from  the  front,  and  perhaps  off  again  that  night,  and 
tried  to  get  ahead  of  them  in  line.  However,  let's  talk  of 
something  else.  Were  you  ever  up  around  Dead  Man's 
Curve  ?    What  division  were  you  in  ?  " 

Laurie  let  his  anger  die  out  and  answered  her  questions. 
For  a  few  minutes  they  held  quite  an  animated  conversa- 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  211 

tion  about  France  and  the  various  phases  of  the  war. 
Laurie  had  been  in  air  service.  One  could  see  just  how 
handsome  he  must  have  looked  in  his  uniform.  One  would 
know  also  that  he  would  be  brave  and  reckless.  It  was 
written  all  over  his  face  and  in  his  very  attitude.  He 
showed  her  his  "  croix  de  guerre." 

"  Mark  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Germans,"  she  said 
sadly  as  she  handed  it  back,  her  eyes  dreamy  and  faraway, 
then  suddenly  seeming  to  realize  that  she  had  spoken  her 
thoughts  aloud  she  flushed  and  hurried  on  to  other  ex- 
periences during  the  war,  but  she  talked  abstractedly,  as 
one  whose  thoughts  had  suddenly  been  diverted.  The 
young  man  watched  her  baffled : 

"  You  seem  so  aloof,"  he  said  all  at  once  watching  her 
as  she  sewed  away  on  the  bit  of  linen,  "  You  seem  almost 
as  if  you — ^well — despised  me.  Excuse  me  if  I  say  that  it's 
a  rather  new  experience.  People  in  my  world  don't  act  that 
way  to  me,  really  they  don't.  And  you  don't  even  know 
who  I  am  nor  anything  about  me.  Do  you  think  that's 
quite  fair  ?  " 

Lynn  looked  at  him  with  suddenly  arrested  attention : 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  said,  "  I  didn't  mean  to  be  rude.  But 
possibly  you've  come  to  the  heart  of  the  matter.  I  am  not 
of  your  world.  You  know  there's  a  great  deal  in  not  being 
able  to  get  another's  point  of  view.  I  hope  I  haven't  done 
you  an  injustice.  I  haven't  meant  to.  But  you're  wrong 
in  saying  I  don't  know  who  you  are  or  anything  about  you. 
You  are  the  son  of  William  J.  Shaft  on — ^the  only  son,  isn't 
that  so?  Then  you  are  the  one  I  mean.  There  can't  be 
any  mistake.  And  I  do  know  something  about  you.  In 
fact  I've  been  very  angry  at  you,  and  wished  I  might  meet 
you  and  tell  you  what  I  thought  of  you." 

"You  don't  say!"  said  Laurie  getting  up  excitedly 
and  moving  over  to  a  chair  next  to  hers  regardless  of  his 
lame  ankle,  "  This  certainly  is  interesting !  What  the  deuce 


£12  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

have  I  been  doing  to  get  myself  in  your  bad  graces?  I 
better  repent  at  once  before  I  hear  what  it  is?  " 

"  You  are  the  one  who  owns  the  block  of  warehouses 

down  on street  and  won't  sell  at  any  price  to  give  the 

little  children  in  all  that  region  a  place  to  get  a  bit  of  fresh 
air,  the  grass  and  a  view  of  the  sky.  You  are  the  one  who 
won't  pull  down  your  old  buildings  and  try  new  and  im- 
proved ways  of  housing  the  poor  around  there  so  that  they 
can  grow  up  decently  clean  and  healthy  and  have  a  little 
chance  in  this  world.  Just  because  you  can't  have  as  many 
apartments  and  get  as  much  money  from  your  investment 
you  let  the  little  children  crowd  together  in  rooms  that 
aren't  fit  for  the  pigs  to  live  in,  they  are  so  dark  and  airless, 
and  crowded  already.  Oh,  I  know  you  keep  within  the 
law !  You  just  skin  through  without  breaking  it,  but  you 
won't  help  a  little  bit,  you  won't  even  let  your  property 
help  if  someone  else  is  willing  to  take  the  bother !  Oh,  I've 
been  so  boiling  at  you  ever  since  I  heard  your  name  that  I 
couldn't  hardly  keep  my  tongue  still,  to  think  of  that  great 
beautiful  car  out  there  and  how  much  it  must  have  cost, 
and  to  hear  you  speak  of  one  of  your  other  cars  as  if  you 
had  millions  of  them,  and  to  think  of  little  Carmela  Hving 
down  in  the  basement  room  of  Number  i8  in  your  block, 
growing  whiter  and  whiter  every  day,  with  her  great  blue 
eyes  and  her  soft  fine  wavy  hair,  and  that  hungry  eager  look 
in  her  face.  And  her  mother,  sewing,  sewing,  all  day  long  at 
the  little  cellar  window,  and  going  blind  because  you  won't 
put  in  a  bigger  one ;  sewing  on  coarse  dark  vests,  putting 
in  pockets  and  buttonholes  for  a  living  for  her  and 
Carmela,  and  you  grinding  her  down  and  running  around 
in  cars  like  that  and  taking  it  out  of  little  Carmela,  and 
little  Carmela's  mother!  Oh!  How  can  I  help  feeling 
aloof  from  a  person  like  that  ?  " 

Laurie  sat  up  astonished  watching  her: 


THE  CITY  OF  FIBE  21S 

"  Why,  my  dear  girl !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  Do  you  know 
what  you're  talking  about  ?  Do  you  realize  that  it  would 
take  a  mint  of  money  to  do  all  the  fool  things  that  these 
silly  reformers  are  always  putting  up  to  you?  My  lawyer 
looks  after  all  those  matters.  Of  course  I  know  nothing 
about  it—!" 

"  Well,  you  ought  to  know,'*  said  Lynn  excitedly, 
"  Does  the  money  belong  to  your  lawyer  ?  Isn't  it  yours 
to  be  responsible  for?  Well,  then  if  you  are  stealing  some 
of  it  out  of  little  Carmela  and  a  lot  of  other  little  children 
and  their  mothers  and  fathers  oughtn't  you  to  know  ?  Is 
your  lawyer  going  to  take  the  responsibility  about  it  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  I  should  like  to  know  ?  Can  he  stand 
up  in  the  judgment  day  and  exempt  you  by  saying  that  he 
had  to  do  the  best  he  could  for  your  property  because  you 
required  it  of  him?  Excuse  me  for  getting  so  excited, 
but  I  love  little  Carmela.  I  went  to  see  her  a  great  deal 
last  winter  when  I  was  in  New  York  taking  my  senior 
year  at  the  University.  And  I  can't  help  telling  you  the 
truth  about  it.  I  don't  suppose  you'll  do  anything  about 
it,  but  at  least  you  ought  to  know!  And  Fm  not  your 
dear  girl,  either! " 

Marilyn  rose  suddenly  from  her  chair,  and  stood  facing 
him  with  blazing  eyes  and  cheeks  that  were  aflame.  It  was 
a  revelation  to  the  worldly  wise  young  man  that  a  saint  so 
sweet  could  blossom  suddenly  into  a  beautiful  and  furious 
woman.  It  seemed  unreal  to  find  this  wonderful,  unique, 
excitable  young  woman  with  ideas  in  such  a  quiet  secluded 
spot  of  the  earth.    Decidedly  she  had  ideas. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said,  and  rose  also,  an  almost  depre- 
catory air  upon  him,  "  I  assure  you  I  meant  nothing  out  of 
the  way,  Miss  Severn.  I  certainly  respect  and  honor  you 
— And  really,  I  had  no  idea  of  all  this  about  my  property. 
I've  never  paid  much  heed  to  my  property  except  to  spend 


gl4  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

the  income  of  course.  It  wasn't  required  of  me.  I  must 
look  into  this  matter.  If  I  find  it  as  you  think — that  is  if 
there  is  no  mistake,  I  will  see  what  I  can  do  to  remedy  it. 
In  any  case  we  will  look  after  little  Carmela.  I'll  settle 
some  money  on  her  mother,  wouldn't  that  be  the  best  way  ? 
I  can't  think  things  are  as  bad  as  you  say — " 

"  Will  you  really  do  something  about  it?  "  asked  Lynn 
earnestly,  "Will  you  go  up  to  New  York  and  see  for 
yourself?  Will  you  go  around  in  every  room  of  your 
buildings  and  get  acquainted  with  those  people  and  find 
out  just  what  the  conditions  are?  " 

"  Why — I — !  "  he  began  uncertainly. 

"Oh,  I  thought  you  couldn't  stand  that  test!  That 
would  be  too  much  bother — ^You  would  rather — !  " 

"  No,  Wait!  I  didn't  say  I  wouldn't.  Here!  I'll  go 
if  you'll  go  with  me  and  show  me  what  you  mean  and  what 
you  want  done.  Come.  I'll  take  you  at  your  word.  If 
you  really  want  all  those  things  come  on  and  show  me  just 
what  to  do.  I'm  game.  I'll  do  it.  I'll  do  it  whether  it 
needs  doing  or  not,  just  for  you.    Will  you  take  me  up  ?  " 

"  Of  course  "  said  Lynn  quickly,  "  I'll  go  with  you  and 
show  you.  I  expect  to  be  in  New  York  next  month  helping 
at  the  Salvation  Home  while  one  of  their  workers  is  away 
on  her  vacation.  I'll  show  you  all  over  the  district  as  many 
times  as  you  need  to  go,  if  it's  not  too  hot  for  you  to  come 
back  to  the  city  so  early.". 

He  looked  at  her  sharply.  There  was  a  covert  sneer  in 
her  last  words  that  angered  him,  and  he  was  half  inclined 
to  refuse  the  whole  thing,  but  somehow  there  was  some- 
thing in  this  strange  new  type  of  girl  that  fascinated  him. 
Now  that  she  had  the  university,  and  the  war,  and  the 
world,  for  a  background  she  puzzled  and  fascinated  him 
more  than  ever.  Half  surprised  at  his  own  interest  he 
bowed  with  a  new  kind  of  dignity  over  his  habitual 
light  manner : 


THE  CITY  OF  FERE  215 

"  I  shall  be  delighted,  Miss  Severn.  It  will  not  be  too 
hot  for  me  if  it  is  not  too  hot  for  you.  I  shall  be  at  your 
service,  and  I  hope  you  will  discover  that  there  is  one  officer 
who  knows  how  to  obey." 

She  looked  at  him  half  surprised,  half  troubled  and 
then  answered  simply : 

"  Thank  you.  I'm  afraid  IVe  done  you  an  injustice. 
I'm  afraid  I  didn't  think  you  would  be  game  enough  to  do 
it.  I  hope  I  haven't  been  too  rude.  But  you  see  I  feel 
deeply  about  it  and  sometimes  I  forget  myself?  " 

*'  I  am  sure  I  deserve  all  you  have  said,"  said  Laurie 
as  gravely  as  his  light  nature  could  manage,  "  but  there  is 
one  thing  that  puzzles  me  deeply.  I  wish  you  would  en- 
lighten me.  All  this  won't  do  you  any  good.  It  isn't  for 
you  at  all.    Why  do  you  care?  " 

Marilyn  brought  her  lovely  eyes  to  dwell  on  his  face 
for  a  moment  thoughtfully,  a  shy  beautiful  tenderness 
softening  every  line  of  her  eager  young  face : 

"  It's  because — "  she  began  diffidently,  "  It's  because 
they  all  are  God's  children — and  I  love  Him  better  than 
anything  else  in  life !  " 

The  swift  color  made  her  face  lovely  as  she  spoke,  and 
with  the  words  she  turned  away  and  went  quickly  into  the 
house.  The  young  man  looked  after  her  and  dared  not 
follow.  He  had  never  had  a  shock  like  that  in  his  life. 
Girls  had  talked  about  everything  under  heaven  to  him  at 
one  time  or  another,  but  they  had  never  mentioned  God 
except  profanely. 

Marilyn  went  swiftly  up  to  her  room  and  knelt  down 
by  her  bed,  burying  her  hot  cheeks  in  the  cool  pillow  and 
trying  to  pray.  She  was  glad,  glad  that  she  had  spoken 
for  her  poor  city  children,  glad  that  there  was  a  prospect 
or  help  perhaps ;  but  beside  and  beyond  it  all  her  heart  was 
crying  out  for  another  matter  that  was  namelessly  tugging 


216  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

away  at  the  very  foundations  of  her  soul.  Why,  Oh  Why 
had  Mark  gone  away  with  that  queer  girl  ?  He  must  have 
setn  what  she  was!  He  must  have  known  that  it  was 
unnecessary !  He  must  have  known  how  it  would  hurt  his 
friends,  and  that  the  man  she  came  to  see  could  have  gone 
as  well  as  he  and  better.  Why  did  he  go  ?  She  would  not, 
she  could  not  believe  anything  wrong  of  Mark.  Yet  why 
did  he  gof^ 


H^^ 


XX 


Billy  had  no  appetite  for  the  nice  supper  that  Aunt 
Saxon  had  ready  when  he  came  dejectedly  home  that  night. 
He  had  passed  the  parsonage  and  seen  through  the  dining- 
room  window  that  the  rich  guy  was  sitting  at  the  supper 
table  opposite  Marilyn  laughing  and  talking  with  her  and 
his  soul  was  sick  within  him.  That  was  his  doing !  Nobody 
else  but  himself  to  blame ! 

Aunt  Saxon  had  apple  dumplings  with  plenty  of 
"  goo,"  black  with  cinnamon  just  the  way  he  loved  it,  but 
he  only  minced  at  the  first  helping  and  scarcely  tasted  the 
second.  He  chopped  a  great  many  kindling  after  supper, 
and  filled  the  woodbox,  and  thoughtfully  wound  the  clock. 
Then  instead  of  going  out  with  his  usual  "  I  gotta  beat 
it !  "  he  sat  languidly  on  the  doorstep  in  the  dusk,  and 
when  she  anxiously  questioned  if  he  were  sick  he 
said  crossly: 

"Aw,  Gee!  Can't  ya  let  a  fella  alone!  Vm  all  in, 
can't  ya  see  it  ?  Fm  gonta  bed! ''  and  knowing  he  had  said 
the  most  alarming  thing  in  the  whole  category  he  slammed 
upstairs  to  his  own  room  and  flung  himself  across  his  bed. 

Aunt  Saxon  filled  with  vague  fears  crept  softly  up 
after  him,  tapping  at  his  locked  door : 

"  Willie,  what  is  the  matter  ?  Just  tell  auntie  where 
the  pain  is  and  Til  get  you  some  medicine  that  will  fix  you 
all  up  by  morning.    I'll  get  you  a  hot  water  bag — !  " 

"DON'T  WANT  NO  HOT  WATER  BAGS!" 
roared  the  sore  hearted  Billy.    "  Can't  ya  lemme  alone?  " 

Silence  a  moment  while  Aunt  Saxon  pondered  tear- 
fully and  sighfully,  then : 

"  Willie,  is  it  the  tooth  ache  ?  " 

"  NoooOH !  "  roared  Billy. 

A  pause,  then: 

217 


218  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"  Billy,  youVe  had  a  fall  off  that  wheel  and  hurt  yer 
head  or  cut  yer  knee,  I  know,  Fve  always  thought  you'd  do 
that,  that  old  wheel !  You  oughtta  have  a  new  one.  But 
ril  bring  the  arnica  and  bathe  it.  And  we'll  paint  it  with 
iodine — where  was  it  Willie?    Yer  knee?  " 

Billy's  shoes  came  to  the  floor  with  a  bang : 

"Aw  gee!  Can't  ya  keep  yer  mouth  shut  an'  let  a 
fella  have  a  little  sleep.  It  ain't  Nowhere!  It  ain't  Nothin' 
an'  I  didn't  have  no  fall  an'  I  don't  want  no  new  bicycle. 
D'ye  hear?  I  don't  want  nothin'  'cept  just  to  be  let  alone. 
I  wantta  go  ta  sleep.  Ain't  I  ben  telHn'  ya  fer  the  last 
half  hour  ?  It  ain't  sinful  fer  a  fella  to  wantta  take  a  Httle 
sleep  is  it  when  he's  been  up  half  the  night  before  taking 
care  of  a  fella  on  the  mountain? — But  if  I  ain't  allowed, 
why  then  I'll  get  up  an'  go  out  somewheres.  I  know  plenty 
of  places  where  they'll  lemme  sleep — " 

"  Oh  WiUlee! "  sobbed  Aunt  Saxon.  "  That's  all  right 
dear !  Just  you  lie  right  down  in  your  bed  and  take  a  good 
sleep.  I  didn't  understand.  Auntie  didn't  understand. 
All  right  Willie.  I'll  keep  it  real  still.  Now  you  lie  down 
won't  you?  You  will  won't  you?  You'll  really  lie  down 
and  sleep  won't  you  Willie  ?  " 

"  Didn't  I  say  I  would?  "  snapped  Willie  shamedly,  and 
subsided  on  his  bed  again  while  Aunt  Saxon  stole  pain- 
fully, noiselessly  over  the  creak  in  the  stair,  closed  the 
house  for  the  night  and  crept  tearfully  to  her  own  bed, 
where  she  lay  for  hours  silently  wiping  the  steady  trickle  of 
hopeless  tears.  Oh,  Willie,  Willie!  And  she  had  had 
such  hopes ! 

But  Billy  lay  staring  wide  eyed  at  the  open  square  of 
his  window  that  showed  the  Httle  village  nestling  among 
the  trees  dotted  here  and  there  with  friendly  winking 
lights,  the  great  looming  mountains  in  the  distance,  and 
Stark  mountain,  farthest  and  blackest  of  them  all.  He 
shut  his  eyes  and  tried  to  blot  it  out,  but  it  seemed  to  loom 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  219 

through  his  very  eyeHds  and  mock  him.  He  seemed  to 
see  Mark,  his  idol,  carried  between  those  other  three  dark 
figures  into  the  blackness  of  that  haunted  house.  He 
seemed  to  see  him  lying  helpless,  bound,  on  the  musty  bed 
in  the  deserted  room,  Mark,  his  beloved  Mark.  Mark  who 
had  carried  him  on  his  shoulder  as  a  tiny  child,  who  had 
ridden  him  on  his  back,  and  taught  him  to  swim  and  pitch 
ball  and  box,  Mark  who  let  him  go  where  even  the  big  boys 
were  not  allowed  to  accompany  him,  and  who  never  told  on 
him  nor  treated  him  mean  nor  went  back  on  him  in  any 
way !  Mark !  He  had  been  the  means  of  putting  Mark  in 
that  helpless  position,  while  circumstances  which  he  was 
now  quite  sure  the  devil  had  been  specially  preparing,  wove 
a  tangled  maze  about  the  young  man's  feet  from  which 
there  seemed  no  way  of  extrication. 

Billy  shut  his  eyes  and  tried  to  sleep  but  sleep  would 
not  come.  He  began  to  doubt  if  he  would  ever  sleep  again. 
He  lay  listening  to  the  evening  noises  of  the  village.  He 
heard  Jim  Rafferty's  voice  going  by  to  the  night  shift,  and 
Tom  McMertrie.  They  were  laughing  softly  and  once 
he  thought  he  heard  the  name  "  Old  Hair-Cut."  The 
Tully  baby  across  the  street  had  colic  and  cried  like  murder. 
Murder!  Murder!  Now  why  did  he  have  to  think  of 
that  word  of  all  words?  Murder?  Well,  it  was  crying 
like  it  wanted  to  murder  somebody.  He  wished  he  was  a 
baby  himself  so  he  could  cry.  He'd  cry  harder'n  that. 
Little's  dog  was  barking  again.  He'd  been  barking  all  day 
long.  It  was  probably  at  that  strange  guy  at  the  parson- 
age. Little's  dog  never  did  like  strangers.  That  creak 
was  Barneses  gate  with  the  iron  weight  hitched  on  the 
chain  to  make  it  shut,  and  somebody  laughed  away  up  the 
street !  There  went  the  clock,  nine  o'clock !  Gee !  Was 
that  all  ?  He  thought  it  must  be  about  three  in  the  morn- 
ing! And  then  he  must  have  dozed  off  for  a  little,  for 
when  he  woke  with  a  start  it  was  very  still  and  dark,  as  if 


mo  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

the  moon  had  gone  away,  had  been  and  gone  again,  and 
he  heard  a  cautious  Httle  mouse  gnawing  at  the  baseboard 
in  his  room,  gnawing  and  stopping  and  gnawing  again, 
then  whisking  over  the  lath  hke  fingers  running  a  scale  on 
the  piano.  He  had  watched  Miss  Lynn  do  it  once  on 
the  organ. 

He  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  hard  at  the  window. 
The  dim  outline  of  Stark  mountain  off  in  the  distance 
began  to  grow  into  form,  and  what  was  that  ?  A  speck  of 
light?  It  must  be  his  eyes.  He  rubbed  them  sleepily  and 
looked  again.  Yes,  a  light.  Alert  at  once  with  the  alert- 
ness that  comes  to  all  boys  at  the  sound  of  a  fire  bell  or 
some  such  alarm,  he  slid  from  his  bed  noiselessly  and  stole 
to  the  window.  It  was  gone!  Aw,  Gee!  He  had  been 
asleep  and  dreamed  it.    No,  there  it  was  again,  or  was  it  ? 

Blackness  all  before  his  eyes, with  a  luminous  sky  dimly 
about  the  irregular  mountain  top  fringed  with  trees.  This 
was  foolish.  He  felt  chilly  and  crept  back  to  bed,  but  could 
not  keep  his  eyes  from  the  dark  spot  against  the  sky.  He 
tried  to  close  the  lids  and  go  to  sleep,  but  they  insisted  on 
flying  open  and  watching.  And  then  came  what  he  had 
been  watching  for.  Three  winks,  and  stop,  three  winks, 
stop,  and  one  long  flash.  Then  all  was  dark.  And  though 
he  watched  till  the  church  clock  struck  three  he  saw 
no  more. 

But  the  old  torment  came  back.  Mark  and  Cherry  and 
Lynn.  The  guy  at  the  parsonage  and  the  girl  with  the 
floured  face  and  base  ball  bats  in  her  ears !  Aw  Gee !  He 
must  have  a  fever !  It  was  hours  since  the  clock  had  struck 
three.  It  must  be  nearly  four,  and  then  it  would  soon  be 
light  and  he  could  get  up.  There  seemed  to  be  a  light  some- 
where down  the  street  through  the  trees.  Not  the  street 
lamp  either.  Somebody  sick  likely.  Hark!  What  was 
that  ?  He  wished  he  hadn't  undressed.  He  sat  up  in  bed 
and  listened.    The  purr  of  a  car !    Someone  was  stealing 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  221 

Mark's  car!  Mark  was  away  and  everybody  knew  it. 
Nobody  in  Sabbath  Valley  would  steal,  except,  perhaps 
over  at  the  plush  mill.  There  were  new  people  there — 
Was  that  Mark's  car?  Some  car! 

With  a  motion  like  a  cat  he  sprang  into  the  necessary 
garment  which  nestled  limply  on  the  floor  by  the  bed,  and 
was  at  the  window  in  a  trice.  A  drop  like  a  cat  to  the  shed 
roof,  down  the  rainwater  spout  to  the  ground,  a  stealthy 
step  to  the  back  shed  where  old  trusty  leaned,  and  he  was 
away  down  the  road  a  speck  in  the  dark,  and  just  in  time 
to  see  the  dim  black  vision  of  a  car  speeding  with  muffled 
engine  down  the  road  toward  the  church.  It  was  too  dark 
to  say  it  was  Mark's  car.    He  had  no  way  but  to  follow. 

Panting  and  puffing,  pedalling  with  all  his  might, 
straining  his  eyes  to  see  through  the  dark  the  car  that  was 
flying  along  without  lights,  his  hair  sticking  endwise,  his 
sleepy  hungry  face  peering  wanly  through  the  dark,  he 
plodded  after.  Over  the  Highway !  He  slowed  down  and 
w^asn't  quite  sure  till  he  heard  the  chug  of  the  engine 
ahead,  and  a  few  seconds  later  a  red  light  bloomed  out 
behind  and  he  drew  a  new  breath  and  pedalled  on  again, 
his  heart  throbbing  wildly,  the  collar  of  his  pajamas  stick- 
ing up  wildly  like  his  hair,  and  one  pa  jama  leg  showing 
whitely  below  his  trouser  like  a  tattered  banner.  The 
pedals  cut  his  bare  feet,  and  he  shivered  though  he  was 
drenched  with  perspiration,  but  he  leaned  far  over  his 
handle  bars  and  pedalled  on. 

Down  past  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern,  and  on  into  the 
village  of  Economy  the  car  went,  not  rapidly  now  as 
though  it  were  running  away,  but  slower,  and  steadier  like 
a  car  on  legitimate  business  and  gravely  with  a  necessary 
object  in  view.  Billy's  heart  began  to  quake.  Not  for 
nothing  had  he  learned  to  read  by  signs  and  actions  at  the 
feet  of  the  master  Mark.  An  inner  well-developed  sense 
began  to  tell  him  the  truth. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  | 

The  car  stopped  in  front  of  the  Chief's  house,  and  a 
horn  sounded  softly  once.  Billy  dismounted  hastily  and 
vanished  into  the  shadows.  A  light  appeared  in  the  upper 
window  of  the  house  and  all  was  still.  Presently  the  light 
upstairs  went  out,  the  front  door  opened  showing  a  dim- 
mer light  farther  in,  and  showing  the  outline  of  the  Chief 
in  flannel  shirt  and  trousers.  He  came  down  the  walk  and 
spoke  with  the  man  in  the  car,  and  the  car  started  again 
and  turned  in  at  the  Chief's  drive  way,  going  back  to 
the  garage. 

Billy  left  his  wheel  against  a  hedge  and  hiked  noise- 
lessly after,  slinking  behind  the  garage  door  till  the  driver 
came  out.    It  was  Mark! 

He  went  down  the  drive,  met  the  Chief  at  the  gate  and 
they  went  silently  down  the  dark  street,  their  rubber  heels 
making  no  noise  on  the  pavement.  Economy  was  asleep 
and  no  wiser,  but  Billy's  heart  was  breaking.  He  watched 
the  two  and  followed  afar  till  they  turned  down  the  side 
street  which  he  feared.  He  stole  after  and  saw  them  enter 
the  brick  building  that  harbored  the  County  Jail.  He 
waited  with  shaking  limbs  and  bleeding  heart,  waited, 
hoping,  fearing,  dreading,  but  not  for  long.  The  Chief 
came  out  alone !    It  was  as  he  had  feared. 

Then  as  if  the  very  devil  himself  pursued  him,  Billy 
turned  and  fled,  retrieving  his  bicycle  and  whirled  away 
noiselessly  down  the  road,  caring  not  where  he  was  going, 
ready  to  hang  himself,  wild  with  despair  and  self- 
condemnation. 

The  dark  lay  over  the  valley  like  a  velvet  mantel  black 
and  soft  with  white  wreaths  of  mist  like  a  lady's  veil  flung 
aside  and  blown  to  the  breeze,  but  Billy  saw  naught  but 
red  winking  lights  and  a  jail,  grim  and  red  in  the  midnight, 
and  his  friend's  white  face  passing  in  beneath  the  arched 
door.  The  bang  of  that  door  as  it  shut  was  echoing 
his  soul. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  223 

He  passed  the  Fenner  cottage.  There  were  lights  and 
moving  about,  but  he  paid  no  heed.  He  passed  the  Blue 
Duck  Tavern,  and  saw  the  light  in  the  kitchen  where 
the  cook  was  beginning  the  day's  work  just  as  the  rest  of 
the  house  had  been  given  over  to  sleep.  There  was  the 
smell  of  bacon  on  the  air.  Some  one  was  going  away  on 
the  milk  train  likely.  He  thought  it  out  dully  as  he  passed 
with  the  sick  reeling  motion  of  a  rider  whose  life  has  sud- 
denly grown  worthless  to  him.  Over  bottles  and  nails, 
and  bumping  over  humps  old  trusty  carried  him,  down  the 
hill  to  Sabbath  Valley,  past  the  grave  yard  where  the  old 
stones  peered  eerily  up  from  the  dark  mounds  like  wakened 
curious  sleepers,  past  the  church  in  the  gray  of  the  morning 
with  a  pinkness  in  the  sky  behind.  Lynn  lying  in  a  sleep- 
less bed  listening  to  every  sound  for  Mark's  car  to  return, 
and  recognizing  Billy's  back  wheel  squeak.  On  down  the 
familiar  street,  glad  of  the  thick  maples  to  hide  him, 
hunching  up  the  pa  jama  leg  that  would  wave  below  in  the 
rapidly  increasing  light,  not  looking  toward  the  Carters', 
plodding  on,  old  trusty  on  the  back  porch ;  shinning  up  the 
water  spout,  tiptoeing  over  the  shed  roof,  a  quick  spring 
in  his  own  window  and  he  was  safe  on  his  bed  again 
staring  at  the  red  morning  light  shining  weirdly,  cheerily 
on  his  wall  and  the  rooster  crowing  lustily  below  his  win- 
dow. Drat  that  rooster !  What  did  it  want  to  make  that 
noise  for  ?  Wasn't  there  a  rooster  in  that  Bible  story  ?  Oh, 
no,  that  was  Peter  perhaps.  He  turned  hastily  from  the 
subject  and  gave  his  attention  to  his  toilet.  Aunt  Saxon 
was  squeaking  past  his  door,  stopping  to  listen : 

**  Willie?" 

"  Well."    In  a  low  growl,  not  encouragingly. 

"  Oh,  Willie,  you  up  ?    You  better  ?  " 

"  Nothin'  the  matter  with  me." 

"  Oh—" 

"Breakfast  ready?" 


224  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

'*  Oh,  yes,  Willie !  I'm  so  glad  you're  feeling  better/' 
She  squeaked  on  down  the  stairs  sniffing  as  if  from  recent 
tears!  Doggone  those  tears!  Those  everlasting  tears! 
Why  didn't  a  woman  know — !  Now,  what  did  he 
have  to  do  next  ?  Do !  Yes,  he  must  do  something.  He 
couldn't  just  sit  here,  could  he?  What  about  Stark's 
mountain  and  the  winking  light  ?  What  about  that  sissy- 
guy  making  up  to  Miss  Lynn?  If  only  Mark  were  here 
now  he  would  tell  him  everything.  Yes,  he  would.  Mark 
would  understand.  But  Mark  was  in  that  unspeakable 
place !  Would  Mark  find  a  way  to  get  out  ?  He  felt  con- 
vinced he  could,  but  would  he?  From  the  set  of  his 
shoulders  Billy  had  a  strong  conviction  that  Mark  would 
not.  Mark  seemed  to  be  going  there  for  a  purpose.  Would 
the  purpose  be  complete  during  the  day  sometime  and 
would  Mark  return?  Billy  must  do  something  before 
night.  He  wished  it  might  be  to  smash  the  face  of  that 
guy  Shaft  on.  Assuredly  he  must  do  something.  But  first 
he  must  eat  his  breakfast.  He  didn't  want  to,  but  he  had 
to.  Aunt  Saxon  would  raise  a  riot  if  he  didn't.  Well, 
there  was  ham.  He  could  smell  it.  Ham  for  breakfast. 
Aw  gee !  Saxy  was  getting  extravagant.  Somehow  pretty 
soon  if  he  didn't  hang  himself  he  must  find  a  way  to 
brighten  up  Saxy  and  pay  her  back  for  all  those  pink  tears. 

And  over  on  Stark's  mountain  as  the  morning  dawned 
a  heavy  foot  climbed  the  haunted  stairs  and  a  blood  shot 
eye  framed  itself  at  the  httle  half  moon  in  the  front  win- 
dow that  looked  out  over  Lone  Valley  toward  Economy, 
and  down  over  Sabbath  Valley  toward  Monopoly  com- 
manding a  strategic  position  in  the  whole  wild 
lovely  region. 

Down  in  the  cellar  where  the  rats  had  hitherto  held 
sway  a  soft  chip,  chip,  chipping  sound  went  steadily  for- 
ward hour  by  hour,  with  spaces  between  and  chip,  chip, 
chipping  again,  a  new  kind  of  rat  burrowing  into  the 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  225 

earth,  over  close  to  the  edge  of  the  long  deserted  scanty 
coal  pile.  While  up  under  the  dusty  beams  in  a  dark  corner 
various  old  parcels  were  stowed  away  awaiting  a  later 
burial.  From  the  peep  hole  where  the  eye  commanded  the 
situation  a  small  black  speck  went  whirling  along  the 
road  to  Monopoly  which  might  be  a  boy  on  a  bicycle,  but 
no  one  came  toward  Stark's  mountain  on  that  bright 
sunny  morning  to  disturb  the  quiet  worker  in  the 
dark  cellar. 

Billy  was  on  his  way  to  Monopoly,  his  aunt  appeased 
for  the  time  being,  with  the  distinct  purpose  of  buying  the 
morning  paper.  Not  that  he  was  given  to  literature,  or 
perused  the  daily  news  as  a  habit,  but  an  idea  had  struck 
him.  There  might  be  a  way  of  finding  out  about  Mark 
without  letting  any  one  know  how  he  was  finding  out.  It 
might  be  in  the  paper.  Down  at  Monopoly  no  one  would 
notice  if  he  bought  a  County  paper,  and  he  could  stop  in 
the  woods  and  read  it. 

But  when  he  reached  the  news  stand  he  saw  a  pile  of 
New  York  papers  lying  right  in  front,  and  the  great  black 
headlines  caught  his  eye: 

"FATE  OF  LAURENCE  SHAFTON 
STILL  UNKNOWN." 

"  Son  of  multimillionaire  of  New  York  City  who  was 
kidnapped  on  Saturday  night  on  his  way  from  New  York 
to  a  week-end  house  party  at  Beech  wood,  N.  J.,  not  yet 
heard  from.  No  clew  to  his  whereabouts.  Detectives  out 
with  bloodhounds  searching  country.  Mother  in  a  state 
of  collapse.  It  is  feared  the  bandits  have  fulfilled  their 
threats  and  killed  him.  Father  frantically  offering  any 
reward  for  news  of  son !  " 

Billy  read  no  further.  He  clapped  down  a  nickel  and 
stuffed  the  paper  indifferently  into  his  pocket,  almost  f or- 
is 


226  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

getting  in  his  disgust  to  purchase  the  county  news.  "  Aw 
Gee !  "  he  said  to  himself.  "  More  o'  that  Judas  stuff.  I 
gotta  get  rid  o'  them  thirty  pieces  1  '* 

He  stepped  back  and  bought  a  County  paper,  stood 
idly  looking  over  its  pages  a  moment  with  the  letters 
swimming  before  his  eyes,  at  last  discovering  the  column 
where  the  Economy  "  murder  "  was  discussed,  and  with- 
out reading  it  stuffed  it  in  the  pocket  on  the  other  side  and 
rode  away  into  the  sunlight.  Murder!  It  was  called 
murder !  Then  Dolph  must  be  dead !  The  plot  thickened ! 
Dead!  Murder!  Who  killed  him?  Surely  he  wasn't  re- 
sponsible for  that  at  least !  He  was  out  on  the  road  with 
Mark  when  it  happened.  He  hadn't  done  anything  which 
in  the  remotest  way  had  to  do  with  the  killing,  he  thanked 
his  lucky  stars  for  that.  And  Mark.  But  who  did  it? 
Cherry?  She  might  be  a  reason  for  what  Mark  did 
last  night. 

At  a  turn  in  the  road  where  a  little  grove  began  he  got 
off  his  wheel  and  seeking  a  sheltered  spot  dropped  down 
under  a  tree  to  read  his  papers.  His  quick  eye  searched 
through  the  County  paper  first  for  the  sensational  account 
of  the  murder,  and  a  gray  look  settled  over  his  pug  coun- 
tenance as  he  read.  So  might  a  mother  have  regarded 
her  child  in  deep  trouble,  or  a  lover  his  beloved.  Billy's 
spirit  was  bowed  to  the  depths.  When  he  had  de- 
voured every  word  he  flung  the  paper  aside  wrathfully, 
and  sat  up  with  a  kind  of  hopeless  gesture  'of  his  hard 
young  hands.  "  Aw  Gee !  "  he  said  aloud,  and  suddenly  he 
felt  a  great  wet  blob  rolling  down  his  freckled  cheek.  He 
smashed  it  across  into  his  hair  with  a  quick  slash  of  his 
dirty  hand  as  if  it  had  been  a  mosquito  annoying  him,  and 
lest  the  other  eye  might  be  meditating  a  like  trick  he  gave 
that  a  vicious  dab  and  hauled  out  the  other  paper,  more  as 
a  matter  of  form  than  because  he  had  a  deep  interest  in 
it.      All   through   the   description   of    those   wonderful 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  227 

Shaft  on  jewels,  and  the  mystery  that  surrounded  the  dis- 
appearance of  the  popular  young  man,  Billy  could  see  the 
word  "  murder  "  dancing  like  little  black  devils  in  and  out 
among  the  letters.  The  paragraph  about  Mrs.  Shafton's 
collapse  held  him  briefly: 

J  "  Aw,  gee !  "  he  could  see  pink  tears  everywhere.  He 
supposed  he  ought  to  do  something  about  that.  For  all  the 
world  like  Aunt  Saxon!  He  seemed  to  sense  her  youth 
through  the  printed  words  as  he  had  once  sensed  Mrs. 
Carter's.  He  saw  her  back  in  school,  pretty  and  little. 
Rich  women  were  always  pretty  and  little  to  his 
mind,  pretty  and  little  and  helpless  and  always  cry- 
ing. It  was  then  that  the  thought  was  born  that 
made  him  look  off  to  the  hills  and  ponder  with  drawn 
brows  and  anxious  mein.  He  took  it  back  to  his  home 
with  him  and  sat  moodily  staring  at  the  lilac  bushes,  and 
gave  Aunt  Saxon  another  bad  day  wondering  what  had 
come  to  Willie.  She  would  actually  have  been  glad  to 
hear  him  say :  "  I  gotta  beat  it !  I  gotta  date  with 
tha  fellas!" 

That  evening  the  rumor  crept  back  to  Sabbath  Valley 
from  who  knows  where  that  Dolph  was  dead  and  Mark 
Carter  had  run  away ! 


XXI 


Tuesday  morning  Lynn  slipped  down  to  Carters  witK 
a  little  cake  she  had  made  all  white  frosting  and  sprinkles 
of  nuts.  Her  face  was  white  but  brave  with  a  smile,  and 
she  said  her  mother  wanted  to  know  how  Mrs.  Carter's 
neuralgia  was  getting  on. 

But  Mrs.  Carter  was  the  only  one  in  the  village 
perhaps  who  had  not  heard  the  rumor,  and  she  was 
gracious  and  pleased  and  said  she  wished  Mark  was  home, 
he  loved  nut  cake  so  much. 

"  You  know  he  was  called  back  to  New  York  suddenly 
last  night  didn't  you?  "  she  said.  "  He  felt  real  sorry  to 
leave  so  soon,  but  his  partner  wired  him  there  was  some- 
thing he  must  see  to  himself,  and  he  just  took  his  car  and 
went  right  away  as  soon  as  he  got  back  from  taking  that 
girl  home.  He  hoped  he'd  get  back  again  soon  though. 
Say,  who  was  that  girl  ?  Wasn't  she  kind  of  queer  to  ask 
Mark  to  take  her  home  ?  Seems  somehow  girls  are  getting 
a  little  forward  these  days.  I  know  you'd  never  do  a  thing 
like  that  with  a  perfect  stranger,  Marilyn." 

The  girl  only  stayed  a  few  minutes,  and  went  home 
with  a  braver  heart.  At  least  Mark  was  protecting  his 
mother.  He  had  not  changed  entirely.  He  wouldn't  let 
her  suffer !  But  what  was  he  doing  ?  Oughtn't  he  to  be  told 
what  rumors  were  going  around  about  him?  But  how 
could  it  be  done?  Her  father?  Perhaps.  She  shrank  from 
that,  Mark  had  so  withdrawn  from  them,  he  might  take 
it  as  an  interference.    Billy?    Ah,  yes,  Billy! 

But  Billy  did  not  appear  anywhere,  and  when  she  got 
back  she  found  that  Shaf ton's  car  had  been  finished  and 
was  ready  to  drive,  and  he  wanted  her  to  take  a  little 
spin  with  him  to  try  it,  he  said.    He  warily  invited  her 

228 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  229 

mother  to  go  along,  for  he  saw  by  her  face  that  she  was 
going  to  decHne,  and  the  mother  watching  her  daughter's 
white  face  said :  *'  Yes,  Marilyn  we  will  go.  It  will  do 
you  good.  You  have  been  housed  up  here  ever  since  you 
came  home."  And  there  was  nothing  for  the  girl  to  do 
but  succumb  or  seem  exceedingly  rude.  She  was  not  by 
nature  rude,  so  she  went. 

As  they  drove  by  the  Saxon  cottage  Billy  was  just 
coming  out,  and  he  stared  glumly  at  the  three  and  hardly 
acknowledged  Marilyn's  greeting.  He  stared  after 
them  scowling. 

"  Hell !  "  said  Billy  aloud,  regardless  of  Aunt  Saxon 
at  the  front  window,  "  Yes  Hell! "  and  he  reaHzed  the 
meaning  of  his  epithet  far  better  than  the  young  man  he 
was  staring  after  had  the  first  night  he  had  used  it  in 
Sabbath  Valley. 

"What  was  that  you  said  Willie?"  called  Aunt 
Saxon's  anxious  voice. 

"  Aw,  nothing !  "  said  Billy,  and  slammed  out  the  gate, 
his  wheel  by  his  side.  *'  Now!  Something  had  to  be  done. 
He  couldn't  have  that  going  on.  He  was  hurt  at  Mrs. 
Severn.  She  ought  to  take  better  care  of  her  daughter ! 
In  sullen  despair  he  mounted  and  rode  away  to  work  out 
his  problem.  It  was  certain  he  couldn't  do  anything  with 
Saxy  snivelling  round.    And  something  had  to  he  done! 

Billy  managed  to  get  around  the  country  quite  a  little 
that  morning.  He  rode  up  to  Economy  and  learned  that 
Mr.  Fenner,  the  tailor,  was  sick,  had  been  taken  two  nights 
ago,  was  delirious  and  had  to  have  two  men  to  hold  him 
down.  He  thought  everybody  was  an  enemy  and  tried  to 
choke  them  all.  He  rode  past  the  jail  but  saw  nothing 
though  he  circled  the  block  three  times.  The  Chief  stood 
out  in  front  talking  with  three  strange  men.  Billy  sized 
them  up  for  detectives.  When  there  was  nothing  further 
to  be  gained  in  Economy  he  turned  his  steed  toward 


230  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Pleasant  Valley  and  took  in  a  little  underground  telephone 
communication  between  a  very  badly  scared  Pat  and  a 
very  angry  Sam  at  some  unknown  point  at  the  end  of  the 
wire.  It  was  then,  lying  hidden  in  the  thick  undergrowth, 
that  a  possible  solution  of  his  difficulties  occurred 
to  him,  a  form  of  noble  self  sacrifice  that  might  in  part 
do  penance  for  his  guilt.  Folded  safely  in  his  inner  pocket 
was  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  the  blood  money,  the  price  of 
Mark  Carter's  freedom  and  good  name.  If  he  had  not 
taken  that  he  might  have  fixd  this  Pat  so  he  would  be  a 
witness  to  Mark's  alibi.  But  according  to  the  code  he  had 
been  taught  it  would  not  be  honorable  to  squeal  on  some- 
body whose  money  he  had  taken.  It  wasn't  square.  It 
wasn't  honorable.  It  was  yella,  and  yella,  he  would  not  be 
if  the  sky  fell.  It  was  all  the  religion  he  had  as  yet,  not 
to  be  "  yella."  It  stood  for  all  the  fineness  of  his  soul.  But 
he  had  reasoned  within  himself  that  if  in  some  way  he 
could  get  that  money  back  to  Pat,  then  he  would  be  free 
from  obligation.  Then  he  could  somehow  manage  to  put 
Pat  where  he  would  have  to  tell  the  right  thing  to  save 
Mark.  Just  how  it  could  be  done  he  wasn't  sure,  but  that 
was  another  question. 

When  Pat  had  trundled  away  to  the  train  he  rolled  him- 
self out  from  ambush  and  went  on  his  way  across  Lone 
Valley  by  a  little  tree-shaded  path  he  knew  that  cut  straight 
over  to  Stark  mountain. 

Not  a  ripple  of  a  leaf  showed  above  him  as  he  passed 
straight  up  the  mountain  to  the  old  house,  for  the  watchful 
eye  looking  out  to  see.  Billy  was  a  great  deal  like  an 
Indian  in  his  goings  and  comings,  and  Billy  was  wary. 
Had  he  not  seen  the  winking  light  ?  Billy  was  taking  no 
chances.  Smoothly  folded  in  his  hip  pocket  he  carried  a 
leaf  of  the  New  York  paper  wherein  was  offered  a  large 
reward  for  information  concerning  jewels  and  bonds  and 
other  property  taken  from  the  Shafton  country  home  on 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  231 

pretense  of  setting  free  the  son.  Also  there  was  a  stu- 
pendous reward  offered  for  information  concerning  the 
son,  and  Billy's  big  thought  as  he  crept  along  under  the 
trees  with  all  the  stealth  of  a  wild  thing,  was  that  here  was 
another  thirty  pieces  of  silver  multiplied  many  times,  and 
he  wasn't  going  to  take  it!  He  could,  but  he  wouldn't ! 
He  was  going  to  give  these  folks  the  information  they 
wanted,  but  he  wasn't  going  to  get  the  benefit  of  it.  That 
was  going  to  be  his  punishment.  He  had  been  in  hell  long 
enough,  and  he  was  going  to  try  to  pull  himself  out  of  it 
by  his  good  works.  And  he  would  do  it  in  such  a  way  that 
there  woudn't  be  any  chance  of  the  reward  being  pressed 
upon  him.  He  would  just  fix  it  so  that  nobody  would  par- 
ticularly know  he  had  anything  to  do  with  the  clews. 
That  was  Billy  all  over.  He  never  did  a  thing  half  way. 
But  first  he  must  find  out  if  there  was  anybody  about  the 
old  house.  He  couldn't  get  away  from  those  three  winks 
he  had  seen. 

So,  feeling  almost  relieved  for  a  moment  Billy  left  his 
wheel  on  guard  and  crept  around  to  his  usual  approach  at 
the  back  before  he  came  out  in  the  open.  And  then  he  crept 
cautiously  to  the  cellar  window  where  he  had  first  entered 
the  house.  He  gripped  Pat's  old  gun  with  one  hand  in 
his  pocket,  and  slid  along  like  a  young  snake,  taking  pre- 
caution not  to  appear  before  the  cellar  window  lest  his 
shadow  should  fall  inside.  He  flattened  himself  at  last 
upon  the  grass  a  noticeless  heap  of  gray  khaki  trousers  and 
brown  flannel  shirt  close  against  the  house.  One  would 
have  to  lean  far  out  of  a  window  to  see  him,  and  there  he 
lay  and  listened  awhile.  And  presently  from  the  depths 
beyond  that  grated  window  he  heard  a  little  scratch, 
scratch,  scratch,  tap,  tap,  tap,  scratch,  tap,  scratch,  tap, 
steadily,  on  for  sometime  like  his  heart  beats,  till  he  wasn't 
sure  he  was  hearing  it  at  all,  and  thought  it  might  be  the 
blood  pounding  through  his  ears,  so  strange  and  uncanny 


232  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

it  seemed.  Then,  all  at  once  there  came  a  puff,  as  if  a  long 
breath  had  been  drawn,  like  one  lifting  a  heavy  weight, 
and  then  a  dull  thud.  A  brief  silence  and  more  scratching 
in  soft  earth  now. 

He  listened  for  perhaps  an  hour,  and  once  a  footstep 
grated  on  the  cement  floor,  and  coals  rattled  down  as  if 
they  were  disturbed.  Once  too  a  soft  chirrup  from  up 
above  like  the  call  of  a  wood  bird,  only  strangely  human 
and  the  sounds  in  the  cellar  ceased  altogether,  till  another 
weird  note  sounded  and  they  began  again. 

When  he  was  satisfied  with  his  investigations  he  began 
slowly  to  back  away  from  his  position,  lifting  each  atom 
of  muscle  slowly  one  at  a  time  till  his  going  must  have  been 
something  like  the  motion  picture  of  a  bud  unfolding,  and 
yet  as  silent  as  the  flower  grows  he  faded  away  from 
that  cellar  window  back  into  the  green  and  no  one  was  the 
wiser.  An  hour  later  the  watchful  eye  at  the  little  half 
moon  opening  in  the  shutter  might  have  seen  a  little  black 
speck  like  a  spider  whizzing  along  on  the  Highroad  and 
turning  down  toward  Sabbath  Valley,  but  it  never  would 
have  looked  as  if  it  came  from  Stark  mountain,  for  it  was 
headed  straight  from  Lone  Valley.  Billy  was  going 
home  to  get  cleaned  up  and  make  a  visit  to  the  parsonage. 
If  that  guy  was  still  there  he'd  see  how  quick  he  would 
leave !  If  there  wasn't  one  way  to  make  him  go  there  was 
another,  and  Billy  felt  that  he  held  the  trick. 

But  as  fate  would  have  it  Billy  did  not  have  to  get 
cleaned  up,  for  Miss  Severn  stood  on  the  front  porch 
looking  off  toward  the  mountains  with  that  wistful  ex- 
pression of  hers  that  made  him  want  to  laugh  and  cry  and 
run  errands  for  her  anywhere  just  to  serve  her  and  make 
her  smile,  and  she  waved  her  hand  at  Billy,  and  ran  down 
to  the  gate  to  speak  to  him. 

"  Billy,  I  want  to  ask  you, — If  you  were  to  see  Mark 
Carter — of  course  you  mightn't,  but  then  you  might — 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE;  233 

you'll  let  him  know  that  we  are  of  course  his  friends,  and 
that  anything  he  wants  done,  if  he'll  just  let  us  know — " 

"  Sure !  "  said  Billy  Hghting  off  his  wheel  with  a  down- 
ward glance  at  his  dirty  self,  all  leaves  and  dust  and  grime, 
"  Sure,  he'd  know  that  anyhow." 

"  Well,  Billy,  I  know  he  would,  but  I  mean,  I  thought 
perhaps  you  might  find  something  we  could  do, — some- 
thing maybe  without  letting  him  know.  He's  very  proud 
about  asking  any  help  you,  know,  and  he  wouldn't  want  to 
bother  us.  You  may  discover  something  he — needs — or 
wants  done — ^while — he  is  away — ^and  maybe  we  could 
help  him  out,  Father  or  Mother  or  I.  You'll  remember, 
won't  you  Billy?  " 

"  Sure!"  said  Billy  again  feeling  the  warm  glow  of  her 
friendliness  and  loyalty  to  Mark,  and  digging  his  toes  into 
the  turf  embarrassedly.  Then  he  looked  up  casually  as  he 
was  about  to  leave: 

"  Say  is  there  a  guy  here  named  Shafton?  Man  from 
n'Yark?" 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Lynn  looking  at  him  curiously, 
"  Did  you  want  to  see  him?  " 

"  Well,  if  he's  roimd  I  might.  I  got  a  message 
for  him." 

She  looked  at  him  keenly : 

"  You  haven't  seen  Mark  to-day,  have  you,  Billy?  " 

"  Aw,  naw,  'taint  from  him,"  he  grinned  reassuringly, 
"  He's  away  just  now.  But  I  might  see  him  soon  ya  know, 
ur  hear  from  him." 

Lynn's  face  cleared.  "  Yes,  of  course.  His  mother 
told  me  he  was  suddenly  called  back  to  New  York." 

"Yep.  That's  right!"  said  Billy  as  if  he  knew  all 
about  it,  and  pulled  off  his  old  cap  with  a  glorious  wave  as 
she  turned  to  call  the  stranger. 

Billy  dropped  his  wheel  at  the  curb  and  approached 
the  Steps  as  he  saw  Shafton  coming  slowly  out  leaning  on 


S34  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

a  cane.  He  rustled  the  folded  newspaper  out  from  his 
pocket  with  one  hand  and  shook  it  open  as  only  a  boy's 
sleight  of  hand  can  do,  wafting  it  in  front  of  the  aston- 
ished Laurie,  and  saying  with  an  impudent  swag, 

"Say,  z'your  name  Shafton?  Well,  see  that?  Why 
don't  you  beat  it  home  ?  Your  ma  is  about  t'croke,  an'  yer 
dad  has  put  up  about  all  his  dough,  an'  you  better  rustle 
back  to  where  you  come  from  an'  tell  'em  not  to  b'leeve  all 
the  bunk  that's  handed  out  to  'em!  Good  night!  They 
must  need  a  nurse !  " 

Laurie  paused  in  the  act  of  lighting  one  of  his  in- 
terminable cigarettes  with  which  he  supplied  the  lack  of  a 
stronger  stimulant,  and  stared  at  the  boy  curiously,  then 
stared  at  the  paper  he  held  in  his  hand  with  the  flaring 
headlines,  and  reaching  out  his  hand  for  it  began  to  laugh : 

"  Well,  upon  my  word.  Kid,  where'd  you  get  this?  If 
that  isn't  a  joke !  I  wonder  if  Opal's  seen  it.  Miss  Severn, 
come  here !  See  what  a  joke  1  I'm  kidnapped !  Did  you 
ever  hear  the  like?  Look  at  the  flowery  sentences.  It's 
almost  like  reading  one's  own  obituary,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Marilyn,  glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  the  headlines, 
took  in  the  import  of  it  instantly.  "  I  should  think  you'd 
want  to  telephone  your  mother  at  once.  How  she  must 
have  suffered !  "  she  said. 

Laurie  somewhat  sobered  agreed  that  it  would  be  a 
good  idea : 

"  The  mater's  a  good  old  scout,"  he  said  lightly,  "  She's 
always  helping  me  out  of  scrapes,  but  this  is  one  too  many 
to  give  up  her  emeralds,  the  Shafton  Emeralds!  Gosh 
but  dad  will  be  mad  about  them !  And  Oh,  say,  call  that 
boy  back  will  you?    I  want  to  give  him  a  dollar !  " 

But  Billy  had  faded  down  the  road  with  mortal  indig- 
nation in  his  breast.  To  think  of  giving  up  a  ten  thousand 
dollar  reward  and  having  a  dollar  flung  at  you !  It  seemed 
to  measure  the  very  depth  of  the  shame  to  which  he 
had  descended. 


TEDE  CITY  OF  FIKE  9SS 

The  Severns  came  a  few  paces  out  of  their  indifference 
to  this  self-imposed  guest  and  gathered  aroimd  the  sheet 
of  newspaper  while  Laurie  held  an  intensive  conversation 
with  his  family  beginning  with  several  servants  who  were 
too  excited  at  first  to  identify  his  voice. 

But  at  last  he  hung  up  the  receiver  and  turned 
toward  them: 

"  Well,  I  guess  there's  nothing  for  it  but  for  me  to 
pull  out.  The  mater  doesn't  think  she'll  be  satisfied  till 
she  has  her  hands  on  me.  Besides  I've  got  to  get  things 
started  about  those  jewels.  Dad  and  mother  are  too 
excited  to  know  what  they're  about.  I  declare,  it's  like 
being  dead  and  seeing  how  they  feel  about  it." 

There  was  a  boyish  eager  look  about  the  young  man's 
face  that  made  him  for  the  first  time  seem  rather  loveable, 
Mrs.  Severn  thought.  The  mother  in  her  rose  to  appre- 
ciation. Lynn  was  so  glad  that  he  was  going  away  that 
she  was  almost  friendly  during  lunch.  And  when  the 
young  man  was  about  to  depart  he  went  to  Mr.  Severn's 
study  and  wrote  a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars : 

"  Just  in  appreciation  of  your  kindness,"  he  said  as 
he  held  it  out  to  the  minister. 

The  minister  looked  amused  but  did  not  offer  to 
take  it : 

"  That's  all  right,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "  We  don't  keep 
boarders  you  know.  You  were  welcome  to  what  we  could 
give  you." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  I  couldn't  think  of  not  remuner- 
ating you,"  declared  Laurie. 

"And  I  couldn't  think  of  taking  it,"  smiled  the 
minister. 

"  Well,  then  take  it  for  your  poor  people,"  he  insisted. 

"From  what  Lynn  tells  me  you  have  mpre  of  those 
than  we  have,"  answered  the  minister. 

The  young  man  looked  annoyed : 

"Well,  then  take  it  for  something  for  your  church, 


236  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

another  bell  or  something,  anything  you're  interested  in." 

"  I  can  give  you  an  address  of  a  young  missionary  out 
West  who  is  having  a  hard  time  of  it,  and  has  a  very 
needy  parish,*'  said  the  minister  taking  out  his  foimtain 
pen  and  writing  the  address  on  a  card,  "  but  I  should  pre- 
fer that  you  would  send  it  to  him  yourself.  He  wouldn't 
take  it  from  me,  but  if  you'd  send  it  he'll  write  and  tell  you 
what  he  does  with  it,  and  he'll  tell  me  too,  so  it  will  give 
pleasure  all  around.  He's  a  game  young  chap,  and  he's 
given  his  life.    You  couldn't  help  but  like  him." 

Laurie  had  to  be  content  with  this,  though  he  felt 
annoyed  at  having  to  write  a  letter  to  a  missionary.  He 
felt  he  shouldn't  know  how  to  address  him. 

"  I'll  send  it  to-night  when  I  get  home,"  he  declared, 
"  or  no,  I'll  send  it  now,"  and  he  sat  down  at  the  minister's 
desk,  and  scribbled  a  note.  It  read :  "  Your  friend  Severn 
won't  take  anything  himself  for  kindness  to  me,  so  he's 
letting  me  send  you  this  for  your  work.  Here's  wishing 
you  good  luck."  This  he  signed  and  handed  to  the  min- 
ister with  a  relieved  air  as  if  to  say:  "There! 
That's  that!" 

"  You  see,"  said  Laurie  getting  up  and  taking  his  hat 
again,  "  I  want  to  come  back  here  again  and  see  your 
daughter.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  I'm  crazy  about 
your  daughter." 

"  I  see,"  said  the  minister  gravely,  albeit  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  "  The  fact  is  I'm  somewhat  crazy  about  her 
myself.  But  in  all  kindness  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that 
you'll  be  wasting  your  time.  She  isn't  your  kind 
you  know." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Laurie  with  an  assured  shrug,  "That's 
all  right  if  I  don't  mind,  isn't  it?" 

"Well,  no,"  said  the  minister  smiling  broadly  now, 
"  You  forget  that  she  might  mind,  you  know." 

"  I  don't  gQt  you,"  said  Laurie  looking  puzzled  as  he 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  237 

fitted  on  his  immaculate  driving  glove,  "  She  might  mind, 
what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean  that  my  daughter  minds  very  much  indeed 
whether  her  men  friends  ask  in  a  certain  tone  of  voice  for 
something  to  drink  at  midnight,  and  use  language  such  as 
you  used  when  you  first  arrived  here,  smoke  continual 
cigarettes,  and  have  friends  like  the  young  woman  who 
visited  you  last  Sunday." 

"  Oh !  I  see ! "  laughed  Laurie  thoroughly  amused, 
"Well,  after  all,  one  doesn't  have  to  keep  on  doing  all 
those  things  you  know — if  it  were  worth  one's  while  to 
change  them." 

"  I'm  afraid,"  said  the  minister  still  amused,  "  that 
it  would  have  to  be  worth  your  while  to  change  before 
she  would  even  consider  you  as  a  possibility.  She  hap- 
pens to  have  a  few  ideas  about  what  it  takes  to  make  a 
man,  her  ideal  man,  you  know." 

Laurie  smiled  gaily : 

"  Perhaps  I  can  change  those  ideas.'* 

"  Help  yourself  young  man.  You'll  find  it  a  task,  I 
assure  you." 

"  Well,  I'm  coming  back,  anyway." 

"  We  shall  welcome  you,"  said  the  minister  politely, 
but  not  at  all  gladly,  and  Laurie  departed  without  his  usual 
complacency,  assuring  the  minister  that  he  had  found 
Sabbath  Valley  the  garden  spot  of  the  world  and  meant  to 
return  soon  and  often. 

Billy  watched  him  from  the  graveyard  enclosure 
whither  he  had  retired  to  write  a  letter,  and  he  made  a  face 
and  wasted  a  gesture  of  defiance  after  his  departing  car. 
So  much  Billy  felt  he  had  accomplished  toward  reparation. 
He  was  now  attempting  a  third  act. 

On  the  smooth  end  of  the  old  stone  he  had  a  newspaper 
spread,  and  upon  that  a  sheet  of  letter  paper  which  he  had 
extracted  from  Aunt  Saxon's  ancient  box  in  the  old  secre- 


238  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

tary  in  the  corner  of  the  kitchen.     Kneeling  beside  the 
stone  he  carefully  inscribed  the  following  words; 

"  Yoors  to  cummand, 
B.  Gaston." 

He  folded  the  paper  with  his  smudgy  fingers,  and 
stuffed  it  into  a  soiled  envelope  on  which  he  wrote  Mark's 
name,  and  as  he  had  seen  Lynn  write  down  in  the  corner 
of  a  note  that  he  had  taken  to  Monopoly  for  her,  **Kindness 
of  Billy,"  so  he  wrote  "  Kindnus  of  Cheef."  Then  he 
mounted  his  wheel  and  rode  to  Economy.  After  some 
apparently  aimless  riding  he  brought  up  at  the  back  of  the 
Chief's  garage  where  he  applied  a  canny  eye  to  a  crack  and 
ascertained  just  how  many  and  what  cars  were  inside.  He 
then  rode  straight  to  the  bank  where  he  was  pretty  sure 
the  Chief  would  be  standing  near  the  steps  at  this  hour. 
Waiting  a  time  of  leisure  he  handed  him  the  envelope : 

"  Say,  Chief,  c'n  I  trouble  you  to  d'liver  that?  " 

The  Chief  looked  at  the  envelope  and  then  at  Billy  and 
opened  his  lips  to  speak,  but  Billy  forestalled  him : 

"  I  know  you  don't  know  where  he  is  at  all  now.  Chief, 
o'  course,  but  I  just  thought  you  might  happen  to  meet  up 
with  him  sometime  soon.  That's  all  right,  Chief.  Thank 
ya."    Billy  ended  with  a  knowing  wink. 

The  Chief  turned  the  envelope  over,  noted  that  it  was 
unsealed,  grinned  back  and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  They  had 
been  good  friends,  these  two,  for  several  years,  ever  since 
Billy  had  been  caught  bearing  the  penalty  for  another 
boy's  misdemeanor. 

"That's  all  right  Billy,"  said  the  Chief  affably,  *T  won't 
forget  it — if  I  see  him!  Seen  anything  more  of  those 
automobile  thieves  ?  " 

"  Nope,"  said  Billy  sadly,  "  but  I  gotta  line  on  'em. 
'f'l  find  anythin'  more  I'll  callyaup!  " 

"Do!"  said  the  Chief  cordially,  and  the  interview 
was  closed. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  239 

Billy  bought  some  cakes  at  the  bakery  with  ten  cents 
he  had  earned  running  an  errand  from  the  grocery  that 
morning,  and  departed  on  important  business.  He  had 
definitely  decided  to  give  up  his  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  No 
more  blood  money  for  him.  His  world  was  upside  down 
and  all  he  loved  were  suffering,  and  all  because  he  had  been 
mercenary.  The  only  way  to  put  things  right  was  to  get 
rid  of  any  gain  that  might  accrue  to  himself.  Then  he 
would  be  in  a  position  to  do  something.  And  Pat  was 
his  first  object  now.  He  meant  to  give  back  the  money 
to  Pat !  He  had  thought  it  all  out,  and  he  meant  to  waste 
no  time  in  getting  things  straight. 

He  went  to  the  Economy  post  office  and  on  the  back 
of  a  circular  that  he  found  in  the  waste  basket  he  wrote 
another  note: 

"  Pat.    This  is  blood  money  an'  I  can't  kep  it.    I  didunt  ^^^"^ 
no  when  I  undertuk  the  job  wot  kind  of  a  job  it  was.  ^^'^^^'^^ 
Thers  only  one  way  fur  yoo  to  kep  yur  hid  saf ,  an  that  is  to  /i>^  ^  ,ti^ 
tel  the  trooth  abot  wot  hapuned.    If  yoo  ar  wiling  to  tel  y^^^-t>i^ 
the  trooth  put  a  leter  heer  say  in  so.     If  yoo  dont  I  am  ^o  >/B^y 
havin'  you  watshed  an  you  will  los  yoor  job  an  likely  be 
hanged.     We  are  artund  so  be  keerful.     This  aint  yella. 
This  is  rite. 

THE  KID." 

It  was  a  long  job  and  he  was  tired  when  it  was  finished, 
for  his  days  at  school  had  been  full  of  so  many  other  things 
besides  lessons  that  literary  efforts  were  always  strenuous 
for  him.  When  he  had  finished  he  went  out  and  carried 
three  parcels  for  the  meat  market,  receiving  in  return 
thirty  cents,  which  exactly  made  up  the  sum  he  had  spent 
from  his  tainted  money.  With  this  wrapped  bunglingly 
in  his  note  he  proceeded  to  ambush  near  Pleasant  Valley. 
He  had  other  fish  to  fry,  but  not  till  dark.  Meantime,  if 
that  underground  telephone  was  being  used  at  other  times 
in  the  day  he  wanted  to  know  it, 


UO  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  | 

He  placed  the  note  and  money  obviously  before  the 
little  hidden  telephone  from  which  he  had  cleared  the 
leaves  and  rubbish  that  hid  it,  and  then  retired  to  cover 
where  he  settled  himself  comfortably.  He  knew  Pat 
would  be  busy  till  the  two  evening  trains  had  arrived,  after 
that  if  he  did  not  come  there  would  likely  be  no  calls  before 
morning  again,  and  he  could  go  on  his  way.  With  a  pleas- 
ant snack  of  sugar  cookies  and  cream  puffs  he  lay  back 
and  closed  his  eyes,  glad  of  this  brief  respite  from  his  life 
of  care  and  perplexity.  Of  course  he  couldn't  get  away 
from  his  thoughts,  but  what  a  pleasant  place  this  was,  with 
the  scent  of  sassafras  and  winter  green  all  around  him, 
and  the  meadow  lark  high  in  the  air  somewhere.  There 
were  bees  in  the  wild  honeysuckle  not  far  away.  He  could 
hear  their  lazy  drone.  It  would  be  nice  to  be  a  bee  and  fly, 
fly  away  from  everything.  Did  bees  care  about  things? 
Did  they  have  troubles,  and  love  folks  and  lose  'em?  When 
a  bee  died  did  the  other  bees  care  ?  Aw  Gee !  Mark  in — 
j — No!  He  wouldn't  say  it!  Mark  was  in  New  York! 
Yes,  of  course  he  was.  It  would  all  come  right  some  day. 
He  would  catch  those  crooks  and  put  'em  in  jail — no,  first 
he'd  use  'em  to  clear  Mark.  When  he  got  done  here  he  was 
going  up  to  watch  the  old  house  and  find  out  about  that 
noise,  and  he'd  see  whether  Link  and  Shorty  would  put 
anything  more  over !  Link  and  Shorty  and  Pat,  and  that 
sissy  Shafton  and  Sam,  whoever  Sam  was !  They  were  all 
his  enemies !  If  Mark  were  only  here  how  they  would  go 
to  that  old  haunted  house  together  and  work  this  thing 
out.  He  ought  to  have  told  Mark  ever3^hing.  Fool !  Just 
to  save  his  own  hide !  Just  to  keep  Mark  from  blaming 
him!  Well,  he  was  done  saving  himself  or  getting  ill 
gotten  gains.  Plim  for  honesty  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

The  bees  droned  on  and  the  lark  grew  fainter  and 
fainter.  Billy's  eyes  drooped  closer  shut,  his  long  curling 
lashes  lay  on  his  freckled  cheeks  the  way  they  lay  some- 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  241 

times  when  Aunt  Saxon  came  to  watch  him.  That 
adorable  sweep  of  lash  that  all  mothers  of  boys  know,  that 
air  of  dignity  and  innocence  that  makes  you  forget  the  day 
and  its  doings  and  undoings  and  think  only,  this  is  a  man 
child,  a  wonderful  creature  of  God,  beloved  and  strong,  a 
gift  of  heaven,  a  wonder  in  daytime,  a  creature  to  be 
afraid  of  sometimes,  but  weak  in  sleep,  adorable  I 

Billy  slept. 

The  afternoon  train  lumbered  in  with  two  freight 
cars  behind,  and  a  lot  of  crates  and  boxes  to  manipulate, 
but  Billy  slept.  The  five  o'clock  train  slid  in  and  the 
evening  express  with  its  toll  of  guests  for  the  Lake  Hotel 
who  hustled  off  wearily,  cheerily,  and  on  to  the  little  Lake 
train  that  stood  with  an  expectant  insolent  air  like  a  neces- 
sary evil  waiting  for  a  tip.  The  two  trains  champed  and 
puffed  and  finally  scampered  away,  leaving  echoes  all 
along  the  valley,  and  a  red  stream  of  sun  down  the  track 
behind  them  from  a  sky  aflame  in  the  west  preparing  for 
a  brilliant  sunset.  The  red  fingers  of  the  sun  touched  the 
freckles  on  Billy's  cheek  lightly  as  if  to  warn  him  that  the 
time  had  come.  The  shutters  slammed  on  at  the  little  sta- 
tion. The  agent  climbed  the  hill  to  his  shack  among  the 
pines.  Pat  came  out  the  door  and  stood  on  the  platform 
looking  down  the  valley,  waiting  for  the  agent  to  get  out 
of  sight. 

And  Billy  slept  on! 


16 


XXII 

Three  days  later  a  pall  hung  over  Sabbath  Valley. 
The  coroner's  inquest  had  brought  in  a  verdict  of  murder, 
and  the  day  of  the  hearing  had  been  set.  Mark  Carter 
was  to  be  tried  for  murder — ^was  wanted  for  murder  as 
Elder  Harricutt  put  it.  It  was  out  now  and  everybody 
knew  it  but  Mrs.  Carter,  who  went  serenely  on  her  way 
getting  her  regular  letters  from  Mark  postmarked  New; 
York  and  telling  of  little  happenings  that  were  vague 
but  pleasant  and  sounded  so  like  Mark,  so  comforting  and 
son  like.  So  strangely  tender  and  comforting  and  more 
in  detail  than  Mark's  letters  had  been  wont  to  be.  She 
thought  to  herself  that  he  was  growing  up  at  last.  He  spoke 
of  a  time  when  he  and  she  would  have  a  nice  home  together 
somewhere,  some  new  place  where  he  would  get  into 
business  and  make  a^  lot  of  money.  Would  she  like  that? 
And  once  he  told  her  he  was  afraid  he  hadn't  been  a  very 
good  son  to  her,  but  sometime  he  would  try  to  make  it  up 
to  her,  and  she  cried  over  that  letter  for  sheer  joy.  But 
all  the  rest  of  the  town  knew  that  Mark  was  suspected  of 
murder,  and  most  of  them  thought  he  had  run  away  and 
nobody  could  find  him.  The  county  papers  hinted  that 
there  were  to  be  strange  revelations  when  the  time  of  the 
trial  came,  but  nothing  definite  seemed  to  come  out  from 
day  to  day  more  than  had  been  said  at  first,  and  there  was 
a  strange  lack  of  any  mention  of  Mark  in  connection  with 
it  after  the  first  day. 

Lynn  Severn  went  about  the  house  quiet  and  white,  her 
face  looking  like  an  angel's  prayer,  one  continual  petition, 
but  she  was  sweet  and  patient,  and  ready  to  do  anything 
for  anybody.  Work  seemed  to  be  her  only  respite  from 
the  gnawing  horror  of  her  thoughts.     To  know  that  the 

£42 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  243 

whole  village  believed  that  Mark,  her  life  long  playmate, 
had  been  guilty  of  a  crime  so  heinous  was  so  appalling  that 
sometimes  she  just  stood  at  the  window  and  laughed  out 
into  the  sunshine  at  the  crazy  idea  of  it.  It  simply  could  not 
be.  Mark,  who  had  always  been  so  gentle  and  tender  for 
every  living  thing,  so  chivalrous,  so  ready  to  help!  To 
think  of  Mark  killing  anyone !  And  yet,  they  might  have 
needed  killing.  At  least,  of  course  she  didn't  mean  that, 
but  there  were  circumstances  under  which  she  could 
lagine  almost  anyone  doing  a  deed — well  what  was  the 
>e,  there  was  no  way  to  excuse  or  explain  a  thing  she 
didn't  understand,  and  she  could  just  do  nothing  but  not 
believe  any  of  it  until  she  knew.  She  would  trust  in  God, 
and  yes,  she  would  trust  in  Mark  as  she  always  had  done, 
at  least  until  she  had  his  own  word  that  he  was  not  trust- 
ible.  That  haughty  withdrawing  of  himself  on  Sunday 
Jjtiight  and  his  "  I  am  not  worthy  "  meant  nothing  to  her 
now  when  it  came  trailing  across  her  consciousness.  It 
only  seemed  one  more  proof  of  his  tender  conscience,  his 
care  for  her  reputation.  He  had  known  then  what  they 
were  saying  about  him,  he  must  have  known  the  day  before 
that  there  was  something  that  put  him  in  a  position  so  that 
he  felt  it  was  not  good  for  her  reputation  to  be  his  friend. 
He  had  withdrawn  to  protect  her.  That  was  the  way 
she  explained  it  to  her  heart,  while  yet  beneath  it  all  was 
the  deep  down  hurt  that  he  had  not  trusted  her,  and  let 
her  be  his  friend  in  trouble  as  well  as  when  all  was  well. 

She  had  written  him  a  little  note,  not  too  intimate,  just 
as  a  sister  might  have  written,  expressing  her  deep  trust, 
and  her  sincere  desire  to  stand  by  and  help  in  any  time  of 
need.  In  it  she  begged  him  to  think  her  worthy  of  sharing 
his  trouble  as  he  used  to  share  his  happiness,  and  to 
know  always  that  she  was  his  friend  whatever  came.  She 
had  read  it  over  and  over  to  be  sure  she  was  not  over- 
stepping her  womanly  right  to  say  these  things,  and  had 


244  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

prayed  about  it  a  great  deal.  But  when  it  came  to  sending 
it  she  did  not  know  his  New  York  address.  He  had 
been  strangely  silent  during  the  last  few  months  and  had 
not  written  her.  She  did  not  want  to  ask  his  mother.  So 
she  planned  to  find  it  out  through  Billy.  But  Billy  did 
not  come.  It  had  been  two  days  since  Billy  had  been 
around,  or  was  it  three?  She  was  standing  at  the  window 
looking  down  the  road  toward  the  Saxon  cottage  and  won- 
dering if  she  wanted  to  go  down  and  hunt  for  Billy  when 
she  saw  Miss  Saxon  coming  up  the  street  and  turning  in 
at  the  gate,  and  her  face  looked  wan  and  crumpled  like 
an  old  rose  that  had  been  crushed  and  left  on  the  parlor 
floor  all  night. 

She  turned  from  the  window  and  hurried  down : 
*'Miss  Marilyn,"  Aunt  Saxon  greeted  her  with  a  gush 
of  tears,  "  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  Billy's  away !  He 
hasn't  been  home  for  three  days  and  three  nights!  His 
bed  ain't  been  touched.  He  never  did  that  before  except 
that  last  time  when  he  stayed  out  to  help  Mark  Carter  that 
time  on  the  mountain  with  that  sick  man,  and  I  can't  think 
what's  the  matter.  I  went  to  Miz  Carter's,  but  she  ain't 
seen  him,  and  she  says  Mark's  up  to  his  business  in  New 
York,  so  Billy  can't  be  with  him,  and  I  just  know  he's 
kilt.  Miss  Marilyn.  I  just  know  he's  kilt.  I  dreamt  of  a 
shroud  night  before  last  and  I  can't  help  thinkin'  he's  kiltT 
and  the  tears  poured  down  the  tired  Httle  face  pitifully. 

Marilyn  drew  her  tenderly  into  the  house  and  made  her 
sit  down  by  the  cool  window,  brought  a  palm  leaf  fan  and 
a  footstool,  and  told  Naomi  to  make  some  iced  orangeade. 
Then  she  called  her  mother  and  went  and  sat  down  by  the 
poor  little  creature  who  now  that  somebody  else  was  going 
to  do  something  about  it  had  subsided  into  her  chair  with 
relief  born  of  exhaustion.  She  had  not  slept  for  three 
nights  and  two  of  those  days  she  had  washed  all  day. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  245 

"  Now,  Miss  Saxon,  dear,  you're  not  to  worry,"  said 
the  girl  taking  the  fan  and  waving  it  gently  back  and  forth, 
touching  the  work-worn  hand  tenderly  with  her  other 
hand,  "  Billy  is  not  dead,  Fm  sure !  Oh,  I'm  quite  sure !  I 
think  somehow  it  would  be  hard  to  kill  Billy.  He  has  ways 
of  keeping  alive  that  most  of  us  don't  enjoy.  He  is  strong 
and  young  and  sharp  as  a  needle.  No  one  can  put  anything 
over  on  Billy,  and  I  have  somehow  a  feeling.  Miss  Saxon 
that  Billy  is  off  somewhere  doing  something  very  im- 
portant for  somebody.  He  is  that  way  you  know.  He 
does  nice  unusual  things  that  nobody  else  would  think  of 
doing,  and  I  just  expect  you'll  find  out  some  day  that  Billy 
has  been  doing  one  of  those.  There's  that  man  on  the 
mountain,  for  instance.  He  might  be  still  very  sick,  and 
it  would  be  just  like  Billy  to  stay  and  see  to  him.  Maybe 
there  isn't  anybody  else  around  to  do  it,  and  now  that 
Mark  has  gone  he  would  feel  responsible  about  it.  Of 
course  he  ought  to  have  told  you  before  he  went,  but  he 
wouldn't  likely  have  expected  to  stay  long,  and  then 
boys  don't  think.  They  don't  realize  how  hard  it  it  is  not 
to  understand — !  " 

"  Thas'so,  Miss  Marilyn,"  sniffed  Miss  Saxon,  "  He 
don't  hardly  ever  think.     But  he  mighta  phomed." 

"  Well,  it  isn't  likely  they  have  phones  on  the  mountain, 
and  you  haven't  any,  have  you  ?    How  could  he  ?  " 

"  He  mighta  phomed  to  you." 

"Yes,  he  might,  but  you  know  how  boys  are,  he 
wouldn't  want  to  bother  anybody.  And  if  the  man  was  in 
a  lonely  cabin  somewhere  he  couldn't  get  to  a  phone." 

"  Thas'so  too.  Oh,  Miss  Marilyn,  you  always  do  think 
up  comfort.  You're  just  like  your  ma  and  pa.  But  Billy, 
he's  been  so  kinda  peaked  lately,  so  sorta  gentle,  and  then 
again  sorta  crazy  like,  just  like  his  mother  useta  be  'fore 
her  husband  left  her.    I  couldn't  help  worryin'." 

"  Well,  now,  Miss  Saxon,  I'll  inquire  around  all  I  can 


«46  THE  CITY  OF  FIEE 

without  rousing  any  suspicion.  You  know  Billy  would 
hate  that/' 

"  Oh,  I  know  he  would,"  flushed  the  little  woman 
nervously. 

"  So  I'll  just  ask  the  boys  if  they  know  where  he  is 
and  where  they  saw  him  last,  and  don't  you  worry.  FU 
tell  them  I  have  a  message  for  him  you  know,  and  you  just 
stop  crying  and  rest  easy  and  don't  tell  a  soul  yet  till  I  look 
around.  Here  comes  mother.  She'll  help  you  better  than 
I  can." 

Mrs.  Severn  in  a  cool  white  dimity  came  quietly  into 
the  room,  bringing  a  restful  calm  with  her,  and  while  Lynn 
was  out  on  her  errand  of  mercy  she  slipped  a  strong  arm 
around  the  other  woman's  waist  and  had  her  down  on  her 
knees  in  the  alcove  behind  the  curtains,  and  had  committed 
the  whole  matter  to  a  loving  Heavenly  Father,  Billy  and 
the  tired  little  Aunt,  and  all  the  little  details  of  life  that 
harrow  so  on  a  burdened  soul ;  and  somehow  when  they 
rose  the  day  was  cooler,  and  life  looked  more  possible  to 
poor  Aunt  Saxon. 

Presently  came  Lynn,  brightly.  She  had  seen  the  boys. 
They  had  met  Billy  in  Economy  day  before  yesterday.  He 
had  said  he  had  a  job,  he  didn't  know  how  long  it  would 
last,  and  he  might  not  be  able  to  come  to  base  ball  practice. 
He  told  them  who  to  put  in  his  place  till  he  got  back. 

"  There,  now,  Miss  Saxon,  you  go  home  and  lie  down 
and  take  a  good  sleep.  You've  put  this  whole  thing  in  the 
hands  of  the  Lord,  now  don't  take  it  out  again.  Just  trust 
Him.  Billy'll  come  back  safe  and  sound,  and  there'll  be 
some  good  reason  for  it,"  said  Mrs.  Severn.  And  Aunt 
Saxon,  smiling  wistfully,  shyly  apologetic  for  her  foolish- 
ness, greatly  cheered  and  comforted,  went.  But  Lynn  went 
up  to  her  little  white  room  and  prayed  earnestly,  adding 
Billy  to  her  prayer  for  Mark.     Where  was  Billy  Gaston? 

When  Miss  Saxon  went  home  she  found  a  letter  in  the 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  247 

letter  box  out  by  the  gate  addressed  to  Billy.  This  set  her 
heart  to  palpitating  again  and  she  almost  lost  her  faith 
in  prayer  and  took  to  her  own  worries  once  more.  But  she 
carried  the  letter  in  and  held  it  up  to  the  window,  trying 
her  best  to  make  out  anything  written  therein.  She  justi- 
fied this  to  her  conscience  by  saying  that  it  might  give  a 
clue  to  Billy's  whereabouts.  Billy  never  got  letters.  Maybe, 
it  might  be  from  his  long  lost  father,  though  they  had  all 
reason  to  believe  him  dead.  Or  maybe — Oh,  what  if 
Albert  Gaston  had  come  back  and  kidnapped  Billy!  The 
thought  was  too  awful.  She  dropped  right  down  in  the 
kitchen  where  she  stood  by  the  old  patchwork  rocking  chair 
that  always  stood  handy  in  the  window  when  she  wanted  to 
peel  potatoes,  and  prayed :  "  Oh,  God,  don't  let  it  be ! 
Don't  bring  that  bad  man  back  to  this  world  again !  Take 
care  of  my  Billy  and  bring  him  back  to  me.  Amen !  "  Over 
and  over  again  she  prayed,  and  it  seemed  to  comfort  her. 
Then  she  rose,  and  put  the  tea  kettle  on  and  carefully 
steamed  open  the  letter.  She  had  not  lost  all  hope  when 
she  took  time  to  steam  it  open  in  place  of  tearing  it,  for 
she  was  still  worse  afraid  that  Billy  might  return  and  scold 
her  for  meddling  with  his  precious  letter,  then  she  was 
afraid  he  would  not  return.  While  the  steam  was  gather- 
ing she  tried  to  justify  herself  in  Billy's  eyes  for  opening 
it  at  all.  After  her  prayer  it  seemed  a  sort  of  desecration. 
So  the  kettle  had  almost  boiled  away  before  she  mustered 
courage  to  hold  the  envelope  over  the  steam,  and  while  she 
did  this  she  noticed  for  the  first  time  significantly  that 
the  postmark  was  New  York.  Perhaps  it  was  from  Mark. 
Then  Billy  was  not  with  Mark!  But  perhaps  the  letter 
would  tell. 

So  she  opened  the  flap  very  carefully,  and  pulled  out 
the  single  sheet  of  paper,  stepping  nearer  the  window  to 
read  it  in  the  late  afternoon  light.  It  read :  "  Dear  Kid, 
shut  your  mouth  and  saw  wood.  Buddy."  That  was  all. 


^8  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Aunt  Saxon  lifted  frightened  eyes  and  stared  at  the 
lilac  bush  outside  the  window,  the  water  spout  where  Billy 
often  shinned  up  and  down,  the  old  apple  tree  that  he  would 
climb  before  he  was  large  enough  to  be  trusted,  and  then 
she  read  the  letter  again.  But  it  meant  nothing  to  her.  It 
seemed  a  horrible  riddle.  She  took  a  pencil  and  a  scrap  of 
paper  and  quickly  transcribed  the  mysterious  words,  omit- 
ting not  even  the  punctuation,  and  then  hurriedly  returned 
the  letter  to  its  envelope,  clapped  the  flap  down  and  held  it 
tight.  When  it  was  dry  she  put  the  letter  up  in  plain  sight 
on  the  top  of  the  old  secretary  where  Billy  could  find  it  at 
once  when  he  came  in.  She  was  taking  no  chances  on  Billy 
finding  her  opening  his  mail.  It  never  had  happened  be- 
fore, because  Billy  never  had  had  a  letter  before, 
except  notices  about  base  ball  and  athletic  association, 
but  she  meant  it  never  should  happen.  She  knew  instinc- 
tively that  if  it  ever  did  she  would  lose  Billy,  if  not 
immediately,  then  surely  eventually,  for  Billy  resented 
above  all  things  interference.  Then  Aunt  Saxon  sat 
down  to  study  the  transcription.  But  after  a  long  and 
thorough  perusal  she  folded  it  carefully  and  pinned  it  in 
her  bosom.  But  she  went  more  cheerily  down  to  the 
market  to  get  something  for  supper.  Billy  might  come 
any  time  now.  His  letter  was  here,  and  he  would  surely 
come  home  to  get  his  letter. 

Down  at  the  store  she  met  Marilyn,  who  told  her  she 
looked  better  already,  and  the  poor  soul,  never  able  to  hold 
her  tongue,  had  to  tell  the  girl  about  the  letter. 

"  He's  had  a  letter,'*  she  said  brightening,  "  about  a 
job  I  guess.  It  was  there  when  I  got  back.  It's  sawing 
wood.  The  letter  doesn't  have  any  head.  It  just  says 
about  sawing  wood.  I  'spose  that's  where  he  is,  but  he 
ought  to  have  let  me  know.  He  was  afraid  Td  make  a 
fuss  about  it,  I  always  do.    I'm  afraid  of  those  big  saws 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

they  use.  He's  so  careless.  But  he  was  set  on  a  grown- 
up job.  I  couldn't  get  him  to  paste  labels  on  cans  at  the 
factory,  he  said  it  was  too  much  of  a  kid  game.'* 

"  Oh,"  said  Marilyn,  wondering,  "  Sawing  wood. 
Well,  that's  where  he  is  of  course,  and  it's  good  healthy 
work.  I  wouldn't  worry.  Billy  is  pretty  careful  I  think. 
He'll  take  care  of  himself." 

But  to  herself  on  the  way  home  she  said :  "  How  queer 
for  Billy  to  go  off  sawing  wood  just  now !  It  doesn't  seem 
like  him.  They  can't  be  so  hard  up.  There  must  be  some- 
thing behind  it  all  I  hope  I  didn't  start  anything  asking 
him  to  stick  by  Mark !    Oh,  where  is  Mark  ?  " 

That  afternoon  Marilyn  took  a  horseback  ride,  and 
touched  all  the  points  she  knew  where  there  might  be 
likely  to  be  woodsawing  going  on,  but  no  Billy  was  on  the 
job  anywhere. 

As  she  rode  home  through  Economy  she  saw  Mrs. 
Fenner  scuttling  down  a  side  street  from  the  jail,  and 
hurrying  into  her  own  side  gate  like  a  little  fright- 
ened lizard. 

Marilyn  came  back  home  heart  sick  and  sad,  and  took 
refuge  in  the  church  and  her  bells.  At  least  she  could  call 
to  Billy  across  the  hills  somewhere  by  playing  the  songs 
he  loved  the  best.  And  perhaps  their  echoes  would  some- 
how cross  the  miles  to  Mark  too,  by  that  strange  mys- 
terious power  that  spirit  can  reach  to  spirit  across  space  or 
years  or  even  estrangement,  and  draw  the  thoughts  irre- 
sistibly. So  she  sat  at  the  organ  and  played  her  heart  out, 
ringing  all  the  old  sweet  songs  that  Mark  used  to  love 
when  the  bells  first  were  new  and  she  was  learning  to  play 
them;  Highland  Laddie,  Bonnie  Bonnie  Warld,  Mavour- 
neen,  Kentucky  Home,  songs  that  she  had  kept  fresh  in 
her  heart  and  sometimes  played  for  Billy  now  and  then. 
And  then  the  old  hymns.     Did  they  echo  far  enough  to 


^0  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

reach  him  where  he  had  gone,  Mark  sitting  alone  in  his 
inferno  ?  Billy  holding  his  breath  and  trying  to  find  a  way 
out  of  his  ?    Did  they  hear  those  bells  calling? 

**0h,  God  our  help  in  ages  past, 
Our  hope  for  years  to  come! 
Our  refuge  from  the  stormy  blast. 
And  our  eternal  home!" 

The  soul  of  the  girl  in  the  little  dusky  church  went  up 
in  a  prayer  with  the  bells. 

"Before  the  hills  in  order  stood. 
Or  earth  received  her  frame. 
From  everlasting  Thou  art  God! 
A  thousand  years  the  samel" 

Every  mortal  in  the  village  knew  the  words,  and  in 
kitchens  now,  preparing  savory  suppers,  or  down  in  the 
mills  and  factories,  or  out  on  the  street  coming  home,  they 
were  humming  them,  or  repeating  them  over  in  their 
hearts.  The  bells  did  not  ring  the  melody  alone.  The 
message  was  well  known  and  came  to  every  heart.  Mark 
and  Billy  knew  them  too.  Perhaps  by  telepathy  the  tune 
would  travel  to  their  minds  and  bring  their  words  along : 

"Under  the  shadow  of  Thy  wings 
Thy  saints  have  dwelt  secure, 
Sufficient  is  Thine  arm  alone, 
And  Thy  defense  is  sure!" 

The  bells  ceased  ringing  and  the  vibration  slowly  died 
away,  hill  answering  to  hill,  in  waves  of  softly  fading 
sound,  while  the  people  went  to  their  suppers  with  a  light 
of  blessing  and  uplift  on  their  faces.  But  in  the  darkened 
church,  Marilyn,  with  her  fingers  on  the  keys  and  her 
face  down  upon  her  hands  was  praying,  praying  that  God 
would  shelter  Mark  and  Billy. 


XXIII 

High  in  the  tree  over  Billy'  head  a  little  chipmunk 
whisked  with  a  nut  in  his  mouth.  He  selected  a  comfort- 
able rocking  branch,  unfurled  his  tail  for  a  wind  shield  at 
his  back,  and  sat  up  to  his  supper  table  as  it  were  with  the 
nut  in  his  two  hands.  Something  unusual  caught  his  at- 
tention as  he  was  about  to  attack  the  nutshell,  and  he 
cocked  his  little  striped  head  around,  up,  and  down,  and 
took  in  Billy.  Then  a  squirrel  smile  overspread  his  furry 
face  and  a  twinkle  seemed  to  come  in  his  eye.  With  a 
wink  down  toward  Billy  he  went  to  work.  Crack,  crack, 
crack !  The  shell  was  open.  Crack !  And  a  large  section 
fell,  whirling  spinning  down,  straight  down.  The  squirrel 
paused  in  his  nibbling  and  cocked  an  eye  again  with  that 
mischievous  twinkle  as  if  he  enjoyed  the  joke,  watching 
the  light  bit  of  shell  in  its  swift  descent,  plump  on  the  end 
of  Billy's  nose.  It  couldn't  have  hit  straighter  if  Chippie 
had  been  pitcher  for  the  Sabbath  Valley  base  ball  team. 

Billy  opened  his  eyes  with  a  start  and  a  scowl,  and  there 
before  him,  glaring  like  a  wild  beast,  thick  lips  agap  show- 
ing gnarled  yellow  teeth,  wicked  eyes,  red  glittering  and 
murderous,  was  Pat,  ugly,  formidable  and  threatening! 

"  Come  outta  there  you  little  varmint  you !  "  roared 
Pat.  "  Come  out  and  I'll  skin  the  nasty  yella  hide  off'n  ya. 
I  gotcha  good  and  hard  now  right  where  I  wantcha  an' 
ye  won't —  " 

Bang!    Click!— BANG! 

Billy  had  been  lying  among  the  thick  undergrowth,  flat 
on  his  back,  his  left  arm  flung  above  his  head,  but  his  right 
arm  was  thrust  out  from  his  body  under  a  thick  clump  of 
laurel,  and  his  right  hand  held  the  gun  ready  for  any 
emergency  when  he  inadvertently  went  to  sleep.    The  gun 

251 


25£  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

was  pointed  down  the  Valley  along  the  ground  and  his 
fingers  wrapped  knowingly,  loving  around  the  weapon, — 
he  had  so  long  wanted  to  own  one  of  his  own.  That  gun 
was  not  included  in  the  blood  money  and  was  not  to  be 
returned.     It  was  a  perquisite  of  war. 

Billy  was  all  there  always,  and  even  awakening  sud- 
denly from  much  needed  sleep  he  was  on  the  job.  One 
glance  at  Pat's  devilish  face  and  his  fingers  automatically 
pulled  the  trigger.  The  report  roared  out  along  the  Valley 
like  a  volley  from  a  regiment. 

Billy  hardly  felt  the  rebound  of  the  weapon  before  he 
realized  that  Patrick  was  no  more  between  his  vision  and 
the  sun's  last  rays.  Patrick  was  legging  it  down  the  Val- 
ley with  all  the  strength  he  had  left,  and  taking  no  time  to 
look  back.  Billy  had  presence  of  mind  to  let  off  another 
volley  before  he  rose  to  investigate ;  but  there  was  nothing 
left  of  Pat  but  a  ruffled  path  in  the  undergrowth  and  a 
waving  branch  or  two  he  had  turned  aside  in  his  going. 
So  that  was  that  1  Doggone  it,  why  did  he  have  to  go  to 
sleep?  If  he  had  only  been  ready  he  could  have  managed 
this  affair  so  much  better  for  his  own  ends.  He  wanted 
a  heart  to  heart  talk  with  Pat  while  he  had  him  good  and 
frightened,  and  now  it  was  too  late.  He  must  get 
back  to  the  other  job.  He  shinned  up  a  tree  and 
observed  the  broad  shoulders  of  Pat  wallowing  up  the 
bank  over  by  the  railroad.  He  was  going  back  to  the 
station.  It  was  as  well.  He  might  see  him  again  tomor- 
row perhaps,  for  Pat  he  must  have  as  evidence.  And 
besides,  Pat  might  read  the  note  and  conclude  to  come  back 
and  answer  it. 

Billy  parted  the  bushes  to  see  if  Pat  had  taken  the 
money  and  note  with  him,  and  lo,  here  was  the  rude  moun- 
tain telephone  box  wide  open  wth  the  bunch  of  keys  in  the 
lock  just  as  Pat  must  have  left  it  when  he  discovered  the 
paper  and  money,  or  perhaps  Pat  had  been  going  to  report 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  253 


■o 


Sam  what  had  happened,  who  knew?  You  see  Billy 
knew  nothing  of  his  little  red  and  brown  striped  partner 
up  in  the  tree  who  had  dropped  a  nut  to  warn  him  of 
danger,  and  did  not  realize  that  Chippie  had  also  startled 
Pat,  and  set  him  looking  among  the  bushes  for  the  sources 
of  the  sound. 

But  Billy  knew  how  to  take  advantage  of  a  situation 
if  he  didn't  know  what  made  it,  and  in  a  trice  he  was 
down  on  his  knees  with  the  crude  receiver  in  his  hands. 
It  was  too  late  to  ride  down  to  the  Blue  Duck  and  tele- 
phone, but  here  was  a  telephone  come  to  him,  and  now  was 
a  chance  to  try  if  it  was  a  telephone  at  all,  or  only  a  private 
wire  run  secretly.  He  waited  breathless  with  the  long 
hum  of  wires  in  his  ears,  and  then  a  quick  click  and  "Num- 
ber please.''  Billy  could  hardly  command  his  voice  but  he 
murmured  "  Economy  13  "  in  a  low  growl,  his  hard  young 
hands  shaking  with  excitement.  "Your  letter  please!" 
Billy  looked  wildly  at  the  rough  box  but  could  see  no  sign 
of  number.  "  Why,  it's  the  station,  doncha  know?  What's 
thamatterwithya  ?  "  His  spirits  were  rising.  "J"  stated 
the  operator  patiently.  "  Well,  jay  then,"  said  Billy, 
*' Whaddolcare  ?  "  "  Just-a-minute-please,"  and  suddenly 
the  Chief's  voice  boomed  out  reassuringly.  Billy  cast  a 
furtive  eye  back  of  him  in  the  dusk  and  fell  to  his  business 
with  relief. 

"Say,  Chief,  that  you?  This's  Bill!  Say,  Chief,  I 
wantcha  he'p  right  away  pretty  quick !  Got  a  line  on  those 
guys!  You  bring  three  men  an'  ge'down  on  the  Lone 
Valley  Road  below  Stark  mountain  an'  keep  yer  eye  peeled 
t' ward  the  hanted  house.  Savvy  ?  Yes,  old  hanted  house, 
you  know.  You  wait  there  till  I  signal.  Yes,  flash !  Listen, 
one  wink  if  you  go  to  right,  two  come  up  straight,  and 
three  to  the  left.  If  it's  only  one  repeated  several  times, 
you  spread  all  round.  Yep.  I'm  goin'  up  there  right  now. 
No,  Chief,  I  wouldn't  call  ye  f  1  didn't  think  t'was  pretty 


254  THE  CITY  OF^FIRE 

sure.  Yep!  I  think  they'll  come  out  soon's  it  gets  real 
dark.  Yep,  I  think  they  ben  there  all  day.  I  ain't  sure, 
but  I  think.  You  won't  fail  me,  will  you  Chief.  No,  sure ! 
I'll  stick  by.  Be  sure  to  bring  three  men,  there's  two  of 
'em,  I  ain't  rightly  sure  but  three.  I  jus'  stirred  another 
up.  Whatssay?  No,  I'm 'lone!  Aw,  I'm awright !  Sure. 
I'll  be  careful.  Whatssay?  Where?  Oh'  I'm  at  a  hole  in 
the  ground.  Yes,  down  below  Pleasant  Valley  station. 
Some  telephone!  I'll  show  it  to  you  t'morra!  S'long, 
Chief,  I  gotta  go!     It's  gettin'  dark,  goobbye!" 

Billy  gave  hurried  glances  about  and  rustled  under 
the  branches  like  a  snake  over  to  where  old  trusty 
lay.  In  ten  minutes  more  he  was  worming  his  way  up  the 
side  of  Stark  mountain,  while  Pat  was  fortifying  himself 
well  within  the  little  station,  behind  tables  and  desks  for 
the  night,  and  scanning  the  Valley  from  the  dusty  win- 
dow panes. 

Billy  parked  his  wheel  in  its  usual  place  and  con- 
tinued up  the  hill  to  the  opening  at  the  back,  then  stood 
long  listening.  Once  he  thought  he  heard  something  drop 
inside  the  kitchen  door,  but  no  sound  followed  it  and  he 
concluded  it  had  been  a  rat.  Half  way  between  himself 
and  the  back  door  something  gleamed  faintly  in  the  star- 
light. He  didn't  remember  to  have  seen  anything  there 
before.  He  stole  cautiously  over,  moving  so  slowly  that 
he  could  not  even  hear  himself.  He  paused  beside  the  gleam 
and  examined.  It  was  an  empty  flask  still  redolent. 
Ummm !  Booze !  Billy  wasn't  surprised.  Of  course  they 
would  try  to  get  something  to  while  away  their  seclusion 
until  they  dared  venture  forth  with  their  booty.  He  con- 
tinued his  cautious  passage  toward  the  house  and  then 
began  to  encircle  it,  keeping  close  to  the  wall  and  feeling 
his  way  along,  for  the  moon  would  be  late  and  small  that 
night  and  he  must  work  entirely  by  starlight.  It  was  his 
intention  after  going  around  the  house  to  enter  and  recon- 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  ^55 

noitre  in  his  stocking  feet.  As  he  neared  the  front  of  the 
house  he  dropped  both  hands  to  his  sweater  pockets,  the 
revolver  in  his  right  hand  with  its  two  precious  cartridges, 
the  flash  Hght  which  he  had  taken  care  to  renew  in  Economy 
in  his  left  hand,  fingers  ready  to  use  either  instantly.  He 
turned  the  corner  and  stole  on  toward  the  front  door,  still 
noiseless  as  a  mouse  would  go,  his  rubber  sneakers  touching 
like  velvet  in  the  grass. 

He  was  only  two  feet  from  the  front  stoop  when  he 
become  aware  of  danger,  something,  a  familiar  scent,  a 
breathlessness,  and  then  a  sudden  stir.  A  dark  thing  ahead 
and  the  feeling  of  something  coming  behind.  Billy  as  if  a 
football  signal  had  been  given,  grew  calm  and  alert.  In- 
stantly both  arms  flashed  up,  and  down  the  mountain  shot 
two  long  yellow  winks  of  light,  and  simultaneously  two 
sharp  reports  of  a  gun,  followed  almost  instantly  by  an- 
other shot,  more  sinister  in  sound,  and  Billy's  right  arm 
dropped  limply  by  his  side,  while  a  sick  wave  of  pain  passed 
over  him. 

But  he  could  not  stop  for  that.  He  remembered  the 
day  when  Mark  had  been  coaching  the  football  team  and 
had  told  them  that  they  must  not  stop  for  anything  when 
they  were  in  action.  If  they  thought  their  legs  were  broken, 
or  they  were  mortally  wounded  and  dying,  they  must  not 
even  think  of  it.  Football  was  the  one  thing,  and  they  were 
to  forget  they  were  dead  and  go  ahead  with  every  whiff  of 
punch  there  was  in  them,  blind  or  lame,  or  dead  even,  be- 
cause when  they  were  playing,  football  was  the  only  thing 
that  counted.  And  if  they  were  sick  or  wounded  or  bleed- 
ing let  the  wound  or  the  sickness  take  care  of  itself.  They 
were  playing  football!    So  Billy  felt  now. 

He  hurled  himself  viciously  at  the  dark  shadow  ahead, 
which  he  mentally  registered  as  Link  because  he  seemed 
long  to  tackle,  and  then  kicked  behind  at  the  thing  that  came 
after,  and  struggled  manfully  with  a  throttling  hand  on  his 


256  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

throat  till  a  wad  of  vile  cloth  was  forced  into  his  mouth — 
and  just  as  he  had  a  half  Nelson  on  Shorty,  too!  If  he 
could  have  got  Shorty  down  and  stood  on  him  he  might 
have  beaten  off  Link  until  Chief  got  there.  Where  was 
Chief?  Where  was  the  gun?  Where  was  he?  His  head 
was  swimming.  Was  it  his  head  he  had  hit  against  the  wall, 
or  did  he  bang  Shorty's?  How  it  resounded!  There  were 
winding  stairs  in  his  head  and  he  seemed  to  be  climbing 
them,  up,  up,  up,  till  he  dropped  in  a  heap  on  the  floor,  a 
hard  floor  all  dust,  and  the  dust  came  into  his  nostrils.  He 
was  choking  with  that  rag !  Why  couldn't  he  pull  it  out  ? 
What  was  cutting  his  wrists  when  he  tried  to  raise  his 
hand?    And  what  was  that  queer  pain  in  his  shoulder? 

There  were  shouts  outside.  How  did  he  get  inside? 
Was  that  more  shooting  ?  Perhaps  he  had  found  his  gun 
after  all.  Perhaps  he  was  shooting  the  men  before  the 
Chief  got  there,  and  that  was  bad,  because  he  didn't  feel 
competent  to  judge  about  a  thing  as  serious  as  shooting 
with  that  dirty  rag  in  his  mouth.  He  must  get  rid  of  it 
somehow.  Doggone  it!  He  had  somehow  got  his  hands 
all  tangled  up  in  cords,  and  he  must  get  them  out  no  matter 
if  they  did  cut.    He  had  to  give  the  Chief  a  signal. 

He  struggled  again  with  all  his  might,  and  something 
somewhere  gave  way.  He  wasn't  sure  what,  but  he  seemed 
to  be  sinking  down,  perhaps  down  stairs  or  down  the 
mountain,  somehow  so  it  was  down  where  the  Chief — ! 
where  Mark !  The  light  in  his  brain  went  out  and  he  lay  as 
one  dead  in  the  great  dusty  front  bedroom  where  a  man 
who  had  sinned,  hanged  himself  once  because  he  couldn't 
bear  his  conscience  any  longer. 

And  outside  in  the  front  door  yard  five  men  struggled 
in  the  dark,  with  curses,  and  shots,  and  twice  one  almost 
escaped,  for  Link  was  desperate,  having  a  record  behind 
him  that  would  be  enough  for  ten  men  to  run  away  from. 

But  after  the  two  were  bound  and  secured  in  the  car 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  U7 

down  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  the  Chief  lingered,  and 
looking  up  said  in  a  low  tone  to  one  of  his  men :  "  I  won-' 
der  where  that  boy  is !  " 

"  Oh,  he's  all  right,"  said  his  assistant  easily,  "  he's 
off  on  another  piece  of  business  by  this  time.  Chief.  He 
likes  to  seem  mysterious.  It's  just  his  way.  Say,  Chief, 
we  gotta  get  back  if  we  wantta  meet  that  train  down  at 
Unity  t'night." 

That  was  true  too,  and  most  important,  so  the  Chief 
with  a  worried  glance  toward  the  dark  mountain  turned 
his  car  and  hurried  his  captives  away.  Now  that  they  were 
where  he  could  get  a  glance  at  them  in  the  dim  light  of  the 
car,  he  felt  pretty  sure  they  were  a  couple  of  "  birds  ^'  he 
liad  been  looking  for  for  quite  a  while.  If  that  was  so  he 
must  reward  Billy  somehow.  That  boy  was  a  little 
wonder.  He  would  make  a  detective  some  day.  It 
wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea  to  take  him  on  in  a  quiet  sort  of 
way  and  train  him.  He  might  be  a  great  help.  He  mustn't 
forget  this  night's  work.  And  what  was  that  the  kid  had  said 
about  a  secret  underground  wire?  He  must  look  into  it, 
as  soon  as  this  murder  trial  was  off  the  docket.  That 
murder  trial  worried  him.  He  didn't  Hke  the  turn  things^ 
were  taking. 


17 


XXIII 

In  the  gray  of  the  morning  Billy  came  to  himself  and 
stared  around  in  the  stuffy  grimness  everywhere.  The  gag 
was  still  in  his  mouth  He  put  up  his  hand  involuntarily 
and  pulled  it  out,  and  then  remembered  that  his  hands  had 
been  tied.  Then  he  must  have  succeeded  in  breaking  the 
cord !  The  other  hand  was  still  encumbered  and  his  feet 
were  tied  together,  but  it  happened  that  the  well  hand  was 
the  freed  one,  and  so  after  a  hard  struggle  he  succeeded  in 
getting  out  of  the  tangle  of  knots  and  upon  his  feet.  He 
worked  cautiously  because  he  wasn't  sure  how  much  of 
what  he  remembered  was  dream  and  how  much  was 
reality.  The  two  men  might  be  in  the  house  yet,  very 
likely  were,  asleep  somewhere.  He  must  steal  down  and 
get  away  before  they  awoke. 

There  was  something  warm  and  sticky  on  the  floor 
and  it  had  got  on  his  clothes,  but  he  took  no  notice  of  it  at 
first.  He  wondered  what  that  sick  pain  in  his  shoulder 
was,  but  he  had  not  time  to  stop  and  see  now  or  even  to 
think  about  it  He  must  call  the  Chief  before  the  men 
were  awake.  So  he  managed  to  get  upon  his  feet  |and 
steady  himself  against  the  wall,  for  he  felt  dizzy  and  faint 
when  he  tried  to  walk.  But  he  managed  to  get  into  the  hall, 
and  peer  into  each  room,  and  more  and  more  as  he  went  he- 
felt  he  was  alone  in  the  house.  Then  he  had  failed  and  the 
men  were  gone !  Aw  Gee !  Pat  too !  What  a  fool  he  had 
been,  thinking  he  could  manage  the  affair !  He  ought  to 
have  taken  the  Chief  into  his  confidence  and  let  him  come 
along.  Aw  Gee ! 

Down  in  the  kitchen  he  found  a  pail  of  water  and  a  cup. 
He  drank  thirstily.  His  head  felt  hot  and  the  veins  in  his 
neck  throbbed.  There  seemed  to  be  a  lump  on  his  forehead. 

258 


THE  CITY^OF  FIRE  259 

He  bathed  his  face  and  head.  How  good  it  felt !  Then  he 
found  a  whiskey  bottle  on  the  table  half  full.  This  after 
carefully  smelling  he  poured  over  his  bruised  wrists,  sop- 
ping it  on  his  head  and  forehead,  and  finally  pouring  some 
down  his  shoulder  that  pained  so,  and  all  that  he  did  was 
done  blindly,  like  one  in  a  dream;  just  an  involuntary 
searching  for  means  to  go  on  and  fulfill  his  purpose. 

After  another  drink  of  water  he  seemed  to  be  able  to 
think  more  clearly.  That  tapping  in  the  cellar  yesterday ! 
What  had  that  been?  He  must  look  and  see.  Yes,  that 
was  really  what  he  had  come  about.  Perhaps  the  men  were 
down  there  yet  hidden  away.  He  opened  the  cellar  door 
and  listened.  Doggone  it  where  was  that  gun  of  his  ?  But 
the  flash  light !    Yes,  the  flash  light! 

He  shot  the  light  ahead  of  him  as  He  went  down, 
moving  as  in  a  dream,  but  keeping  true  to  type,  cautious, 
careful,  stealthy.  At  last  he  was  down.  No  one  there !  He 
turned  the  little  flash  into  every  nook  and  cranny,  not  ex- 
cepting the  ledges  above  the  cellar  wall  whereon  the  floor 
beams  rested.  Once  he  came  on  a  tin  box  long  and  flat 
and  new  looking.  It  seemed  strange  to  meet  it  here.  There 
was  no  dust  upon  it.  He  poked  it  down  with  his  torch  and 
it  sprawled  open  at  his  feet.  Papers,  long  folded  papers 
printed  with  writing  in  between,  like  bonds  or  deeds  or 
something.  He  stooped  and  waved  the  flash  above  them 
and  caught  the  name  Shafton  in  one.  It  was  an  insurance 
paper,  house  and  furniture.  He  felt  too  stupid  to  quite 
understand,  but  it  grew  into  his  consciousness  that  these 
were  the  things  he  was  looking  for.  He  gathered  them 
up,  stuffing  them  carefully  inside  his  blouse.  They  would 
be  safe  there.  Then  he  turned  to  go  upstairs,  but  stumbled 
over  a  pile  of  coal  out  in  the  floor  and  fell.  It  gave  him  a 
sick  sensation  to  fall.  It  almost  seemed  that  he  couldn't 
get  up  again,  but  now  he  had  found  the  papers  he  must. 
He  crawled  to  his  knees,  and  felt  around,  then  turned  his 


260  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

light  on.  This  was  strange !  A  heap  of  coal  out  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  floor,  almost  a  foot  from  the  rest !  A  rusty  shovel 
lay  beside  it,  a  chisel  and  a  big  stone.  Ah !  The  tapping ! 
He  got  up  forgetting  his  pain  and  began  to  kick  away  the 
coal,  turning  the  flash  light  down.  Yes,  there  was  a  crack 
in  the  cement,  a  loose  piece.  He  could  almost  lift  it  with 
his  foot.  He  pried  at  it  with  the  toe  of  his  shoe,  and  then 
lifted  it  with  much  effort  out  of  the  way.  It  was  quite  a 
big  piece,  more  than  a  foot  in  diameter !  The  ground  was 
soft  underneath  as  if  it  had  been  recently  worked  over.  He 
stooped  and  plunged  the  fingers  of  his  good  hand  in  and 
felt  around,  laying  the  light  on  the  floor  so  it  would  shed 
a  glare  over  the  spot  where  he  worked.  He  could  feel 
down  several  inches.  There  seemed  to  be  something  soft 
like  cloth  or  leather.  He  pulled  at  it  and  finally  brought  it 
up.  A  leather  bag  girt  about  with  a  thong  of  leather.  He. 
picked  the  knot  and  turned  the  flash  in.  It  sent  forth  a 
million  green  lights.  There  seemed  also  to  be  a  rope  of 
white  glistening  things  that  reminded  him  of  Saxy's  tears. 
That  brought  a  pang.  Saxy  would  be  crying !  He  must  re- 
member that  and  do  something  about  it.  He  must  have  been 
away  a  long  titne  and  perhaps  those  men  would  be  coming 
back.  But  it  wouldn't  do  to  leave  these  things  here.  They 
>vere  the  Shafton  jewels.  What  anybody  wanted  of  a  lot 
of  shiny  little  stones  like;  that  and  a  rope  of  tears !  But 
then  if  they  did  they  did,  and  they  were  theirs  and  they 
oughtta  have  'em.  This  was  the  thing  he  had  come  to  do. 
Get  those  jewels  and  papers  back !  Make  up  as  far  as  he 
could  for  what  he  had  done!  And  he  must  do  it  now 
quick  before  he  got  sick.  He  felt  he  was  getting  sick  and 
he  mustn't  think  about  it  or  he  would  turn  into  Aunt 
Saxon.  That  was  the  queerest  thing,  back  in  his  mind  he 
felt  this  was  Aunt  Saxon  down  here  in  the  haunted  cellar 
playing  with  green  stones  and  ropes  of  tears,  and  he  must 
hurry  quick  before  she  found  him  and  told  him  he  couldn't 
finish  what  he  had  to  do. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  261 

He  did  the  work  thoroughly,  feeling  down  in  the  hole 
again,  but  found  nothing  more.  Then  he  stuffed  the  bag 
inside  his  blouse  and  buttoned  up  his  sweater  with  his 
well  hand  and  somehow  got  up  the  stairs.  That  arm  pained 
him  a  lot,  and  he  found  his  sweater  was  wet.  So  he  took 
his  handkerchief  and  tied  it  tight  around  the  place  that 
hurt  the  most,  holding  one  end  in  his  teethe  to  make  the 
knot  firm. 

The  sun  blinded  him  as  he  stumbled  down  the  back 
steps  and  went  to  get  his  wheel,  but  somehow  he  managed 
it,  plunging  through  the  brakes  and  tangles,  and  back  to 
the  road. 

It  ran  in  his  brain  where  the  Shaftons  lived  out  in  the 
country  on  the  Jersey  shore.  He  had  a  mental  picture  in 
the  back  of  his  mind  how  to  get  there.  He  knew  that  when 
he  struck  the  Highroad  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  keep 
straight  on  till  he  crossed  the  State  Line  and  then  he  would 
find  it  somehow,  although  it  was  miles  away.  If  he  had 
been  himself  he  would  have  known  it  was  an  impossible 
journey  in  his  present  condition,  but  he  wasn't  thinking  of 
impossibilities.  He  had  to  do  it,  didn't  he?  He,  Billy, 
had  set  out  to  make  reparation  for  the  confusion  he  had 
wrought  in  his  small  world,  and  he  meant  to  do  so,  though 
all  hell  should  rise  against  him.  Hell !  That  was  it.  He 
could  see  the  flames  in  hot  little  spots  where  the  morning 
sun  struck.  He  could  hear  the  bells  striking  the  hour  in 
the  world  he  used  to  know  that  was  not  for  him  any  more. 
He  zigzagged  along  the  road  in  a  crazy  way,  and  strange 
to  say  he  met  nobody  he  knew,  for  it  was  early.  Ten 
minutes  after  he  passed  the  Crossroads  Elder  Harricutt 
went  across  the  Highway  toward  Economy  to  his  day's 
work,  and  he  would  have  loved  to  have  seen  Billy,  and 
his  rusty  old  wheel,  staggering  along  in  that  crazy  way 
and  smelling  of  whiskey  like  a  whole  moonshiner,  fairly 
reeking  with  whiskey  as  he  joggled  down  the  road,  and  a 
queer  little  tinkle  now  and  then  just  inside  his  blouse  as  if 


^2  THE  CITY  OF  FIBE 

he  carried  loaded  dice.    Oh,  he  would  have  loved  to  have 
caught  Billy  shooting  crap ! 

But  he  was  too  late,  and  Billy  swam  on,  the  sun  grow- 
ing hotter  on  his  aching  head,  the  light  more  blinding  to 
his  blood  shot  eyes,  the  lump  bigger  and  bluer  on  his 
grimy  forehead. 

About  ten  o'clock  a  car  came  by,  slowed  down,  the 
driver  watching  Billy,  though  Billy  took  no  note  of  him. 
Billy  was  looking  on  the  ground  dreaming  he  was  search- 
ing for  the  state  line.  He  had  a  crazy  notion  it  oughtta  be 
there  somewhere. 

The  man  in  the  car  stopped  and  called  to  him : 

"  How  about  putting  your  wheel  in  the  back  seat  and 
letting  me  give  you  a  Hft  ?    You  look  pretty  tired." 

Billy  lifted  bleared  eyes  and  stopped  pedalling,  almost 
falling  off  his  wheel,  but  recovering  himself  with  a  wrench 
of  pain  and  sliding  off. 

"  Awwright !  "  said  Billy,  "  Thanks ! " 

"  You  look  all  in,  son,"  said  the  man  kindly. 

"  Yep,"  said  Billy  laconically,  "  'yam !  Been  up  all 
night.    Care  f'l  sleep?  " 

"  Help  yourself,"  said  the  man,  giving  a  Hft  with  the 
jvheel,  and  putting  it  in  behind. 

Billy  curled  down  in  the  back  seat  without  fur- 
ther ceremony. 

"  Where  are  you  going  son?  " 

Billy  named  the  country  seat  of  the  Shaftons,  having 
no  idea  how  far  away  it  was.    The  man  gave  a  whistle. 

"  What!  On  that  wheel?  Well,  go  to  sleep  son.  I'm 
going  there  myself,  so  don't  worry.  I'll  wake  you  up 
when  you  get  there." 

So  Billy  slept  through  the  first  long  journey  he  had 
taken  since  he  came  to  live  with  Aunt  Saxon,  slept  pro- 
foundly with  an  oblivion  that  almost  amounted  to  coma. 
Sometimes  the  man,  looking  back,  was  tempted  to  stop 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  263 

and  see  if  the  boy  was  yet  alive,  but  a  light  touch  on  the 
hot  forehead  showed  him  that  life  was  not  extinct,  and 
they  whirled  on. 

Three  hours  later  Billy  was  awakened  by  a  sharp  shake 
of  his  sore  shoulder  and  a  stinging  pain  that  shot  through 
him  like  fire.  Fire !  Fire !  He  was  on  fire !  That  was  how 
he  felt  as  he  opened  his  eyes  and  glared  at  the  stranger : 

"  Aw,  lookout  there,  whatterya  doin'  ?  "  he  blazed, 
"  Whadda  ya  think  I  am?  A  football?  Don't  touch  me. 
ril  get  out.  This  the  place  ?  Thanks  fer  tha  ride,  I  was  all 
in.    Say,  d'ya  know  a  guy  by  the  name  of  Shafton?  " 

"Shafton?"  asked  the  man  astonished,  "are  you 
going  to  Shaf ton's  ?  " 

"Sure,"  said  Billy,  "anything  wrong  about  that? 
Where  does  he  hang  out?  "  The  look  of  Billy,  and  more 
than  all  the  smell  of  him  made  it  quite  apparent  to  the 
casual  observer  that  he  had  been  drinking,  and  the  man 
eyed  him  compassionately.  "  Poor  little  fool !  He's 
beginning  young.  What  on  earth  does  he  want 
at  Shaftons?" 

"  I  'spose  you've  come  down  after  the  reward,"  grin- 
ned the  man,  "  I  could  have  saved  you  the  trouble  if  you'd 
told  me.  The  kidnapped  son  has  got  home.  They  are  not 
in  need  of   further  information." 

Billy  gave  him  a  superior  leer  with  one  eye  closed : 

"  You  may  not  know  all  there  is  to  know  about  that," 
he  said  impudently,  "where  did  you  say  he  lived?  " 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders  indifferently. 

"  Suit  yourself,"  he  said,  "  I  doubt  if  they'll  see  you. 
They  have  had  nothing  but  a  stream  of  vagrants  for  two 
days  and  they're  about  sick  of  it.  They  live  on  the  next 
estate  and  the  gateway  is  right  around  that  corner." 

"  I  ain't  no  vagrant,"  glared  Billy,  and  limped  away 
with  old  trusty  under  his  left  arm. 

No  one  molested  him  as  he  walked  in  the  arched  and 


264  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

ivied  gateway,  for  the  gate  keeper  was  off  on  a  little 
private  errand  of  his  own  at  a  place  where  prohibition  had 
not  yet  penetrated.  Billy  felt  too  heavy  and  dizzy  to  mount 
his  wheel,  but  he  leaned  on  the  saddle  as  he  walked  and 
tried  to  get  things  straight  in  his  head.  He  oughtn't  to 
have  gone  to  sleep,  that's  what  he  oughtn't.  But  this  job 
would  soon  be  over  and  then  he  would  hike  it  for  home. 
Gee !  Wouldn't  home  feel  good !  And  Aunt  Saxon  would 
bathe  his  head  with  wych  hazel  and  make  cold  things 
for  him  to  drink !    Aw,  Gee ! 

The  pedigreed  dogs  of  which  the  place  boasted  a  num- 
ber came  suddenly  down  upon  him  in  a  great  flare  of  noise, 
but  dogs  were  always  his  friends,  why  should  he  worry? 
A  pity  he  couldn't  stop  to  make  friends  with  them  just  now. 
Some  dogs !  Here  pup !  Gee !  What  a  dog  to  own !  The 
dogs  whined  and  fawned  upon  him.  Pedigree  or  no  pedi- 
gree, rags  and  whiskey  and  dirt  notwithstanding,  they 
knew  a  man  when  they  saw  one,  and  Billy  hadn't  batted  an 
eyelid  when  they  tried  their  worst  tramp  barks  on  him. 
They  wagged  their  silky  tails  and  tumbled  over  each  other 
to  get  first  place  to  him,  and  so  escorted  proudly  he  dropped 
old  trusty  by  a  clump  of  imported  rhododendrons  and 
limped  up  the  marble  steps  to  the  wide  vistas  of  circular 
piazzas  that  stretched  to  seemingly  infinite  distances,  and 
wondered  if  he  should  ever  find  the  front  door. 

An  imposing  butler  appeared  with  a  silver  tray,  and 
stood  aghast. 

"  Shaft  on  live  here?"  inquired  Billy  trying  to  look 
business  like.  "  Like  to  see  him  er  the  missus  a  minute," 
he  added  as  the  frowning  vision  bowed.  The  butler 
politely  but  firmly  told  him  that  the  master  and  mistress 
had  other  business  and  no  desire  to  see  him.  The  young 
gentleman  had  come  home,  and  the  reward  had  been  with- 
drawn.   If  it  was  about  the  reward  he  had  come  he  could 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  265 

go  down  to  the  village  and  find  the  detective.  The  house 
people  didn't  want  to  interview  any  more  callers. 

"  Well,  say,  "  said  Billy  disgusted,  '*  after  I've  come  all 
this  way  too!  You  go  tell  'er  I've  brought  her  jewels! 
You  go  tell  'er  I've  gottum  here! " 

The  butler  opened  the  door  a  little  wider :  he  suggested 
that  seeing  was  believing. 

"  Not  on  yer  tin  type !  "  snapped  Billy,  "  I  show  'em 
to  nobody  an'  I  give  'em  to  nobody  but  the  owner! 
Where's  the  young  fella  ?  He  knows  me.  Tell  'im  I  brang 
his  ma's  string  o'  beads  an'  things." 

Billy  was  weary.  His  head  was  spinning  round.  His 
temper  was  rising. 

"  Aw, — ^you  make  me  tired  1  Get  out  of  my  way !  " 
He  lowered  his  head  and  made  a  football  dive  with  his  head 
in  the  region  of  the  dignified  butler's  stomach,  and  before 
that  dignitary  had  recovered  his  poise  Billy  with  two  collies 
joyously  escorting  him,  stood  blinking  in  wonder  over  the 
great  beautiful  living  room,  for  all  the  world  as  pretty  as 
the  church  at  home,  only  stranger,  with  things  around  that 
he  couldn't  make  out  the  use  of. 

"Where'ur  they  at?  Where  are  the  folks?"  he 
shouted  back  to  the  butler  who  was  coming  after  him  with 
menace  in  his  eye. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Morris  ?  What  is  all  this  noise 
about  ?  "  came  a  lady's  voice  in  pettish  tones  from  up 
above  somewhere.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  that  I  wouldn't  see 
another  one  of  those  dreadful  people  to-day?  " 

Billy  located  her  smooth  old  childish  face  at  once  and 
strode  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  peering  up  at  the  lady,  white 
with  pain  from  his  contact  with  the  butler,  but  alert  now 
to  the  task  before  him: 

"  Say,  Miz  Shaf't'n,  I  got  yer  jools,  would  ya  mind 
takin'  'em  right  now?  'Cause  I'm  all  in  an'  I  wantta 
get  home." 


^66  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

His  head  was  going  around  now  like  a  merry-go- 
round,  but  he  steadied  himself  by  the  bannister : 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean?  "  asked  the  lady  descend- 
ing a  step  or  two,  a  vision  of  marcelled  white  hair,  violet 
and  lace  negligee,  and  well  preserved  features,  "  YouVe 
got  them  there?  Let  me  see  them." 

"  He's  been  drinking,  Sarah,  can't  you  smell  it?  "  said 
a  man's  voice  higher  up,  "  Come  away  and  let  Morris  deal 
with  him.  Really  Sarah,  we'll  have  to  go  away  if  this 
keeps  up." 

"  Say,  you  guy  up  there,  just  shut  yer  trap  a  minute 
won't  3^ !  Here,  Miz  Shaf't'n,  are  these  here  yours?  " 

Billy  struggled  with  the  neck  of  his  blouse  and  brought 
forth  the  leather  bag,  gripped  the  knot  fiercely  in  his  teeth, 
ran  his  fingers  in  the  bag  as  he  held  it  in  his  mouth,  his 
lamed  arm  hanging  at  his  side,  and  drew  forth  the  mag- 
nificent pearls. 

"William!     My  pearls!"  shrieked  the  lady. 

The  gentleman  came  down  incredulous,  and  looked 
over  her  shoulder. 

"  I  believe  they  are,  Sarah,"  he  said. 

Billy  leered  feverishly  up  at  him,  and  produced  a  sheaf 
of  papers,  seemingly  burrowing  somewhere  in  his  internal 
regions  to  bring  them  forth. 

"  And  here,  d'these  b'long?  " 

The  master  of  the  house  gripped  them. 

'*  Sarah !  The  bonds  1  And  the  South  American 
Shares !  "  They  were  too  busy  to  notice  Billy  who  stood 
swaying  by  the  newel  post,  his  duty  done  now,  the  dogs 
grouped  about  him. 

"  Say,  c'n  I  get  me  a  drink?  "  he  asked  of  the  butler, 
who  hovered  near  uncertain  what  to  be  doing  now  that  the 
tide  was  turned. 

The  lady  looked  up. 

"Morris!" 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  267 

He  scarcely  heard  the  lady's  words  but  almost  immedi- 
ately a  tall  slim  glass  of  frosty  drink,  that  smelled  of  wild 
grapes,  tasted  of  oranges,  and  cooled  him  down  to  the  soul 
again,  was  put  into  his  hand  and  he  gulped  it  greedily. 

"  Where  did  you  say  you  found  these,  young  man? '' 
The  gentleman  eyed  him  sternly,  and  Billy's  old  spirit 
flamed  up :  ^ 

"  I  didn't  say,"  said  Billy. 

"  But  you  know  we've  got  to  have  all  the  evidence 
before  we  can  give  the  reward — !  " 

"  Aw,  cut  it  out !  I  don't  want  no  reward.  Wouldn't 
take  it  if  you  give  it  to  me !  I  just  wantta  get  home.  Say, 
you  gotta  telephone?  " 

"  Why  certainly."  This  was  the  most  astonish- 
ing burglar! 

"  Well,  where  is't  ?  Lemme  call  long  distance  on  it  ?  I 
ain't  got  the  tin  now,  but  I'll  pay  ya  when  I  git  back  home  1" 

"  Why,  the  idea !  Take  him  to  the  telephone  Morris. 
Right  there  1    This  one— !  " 

But  Billy  had  sighted  one  on  a  mahogany  desk  near  at 
hand  and  he  toppled  to  the  edge  of  the  chair  that  stood 
before  it.  He  took  down  the  receiver  in  a  shaky  hand, 
calling  Long  Distance. 

"This  Long  Distance?    Well,  gimme  Economy  13." 

The  Shaftons  for  the  instant  were  busy  looking  over 
the  papers,  identifying  each  jewel,  wondering  if  any  were 
missing.  They  did  not  notice  Billy  till  a  gruff  young  voice 
rang  out  with  a  pathetic  tremble  in  it :  "  That  you  Chief  ? 
This  is  Billy.  Say,  c'n  I  bother  you  to  phone  to  Miss 
Severn  an'  ast  her  to  tell  m'yant  I'm  aw'wright  ?  Yes,  tell 
her  I'll  be  home  soon  now,  an'  I'll  explain.  And  Chief, 
I'm  mighty  sorry  those  two  guys  got  away,  but  I  couldn't 
help  it.  We'll  get  'em  yet.  Hope  you  didn't  wait  long. 
Tell  you  more  when  I  see  ya,  S'long — !  " 

The  boyish  voice  trailed  off  into  silence  as  the  receiver 


268  THE^CITY^OF  FIRE 

fell  with  a  crash  to  the  poHshed  desk,  and  Billy  slipped  off 
the  chair  and  lay  in  a  huddled  heap  on  the  costly  rug. 

"  Oh,  mercy !  "  cried  the  lady,  "  Is  he  drunk  or  what?  " 

"  Come  away  Sarah,  let  Morris  deal — '' 

"  But  he's  sick,  I  believe,  William.  Look  how  white 
he  is.  I  believe  he  is  dead !  William,  he  may  have  come  a 
long  way  in  the  heat!  He  may  have  had  a  sunstroke! 
Morris,  send  for  a  doctor  quick!  And — call  the  ambu- 
lance too!  You  better  telephone  the  hospital.  We  can't 
have  him  here!  William,  look  here,  what's  this  on  his 
sleeve?  Blood?  Oh,  William!  And  we  didn't  give  him 
any  reward — !  " 

And  so,  while  the  days  hastened  on  Billy  lay  between 
clean  white  sheets  on  a  bed  of  pain  in  a  private  ward  of  a 
wonderful  Memorial  Hospital  put  up  by  the  Shaftons  in 
honor  of  a  child  that  died.  Tossing  and  moaning,  and 
dreaming  of  unquenchable  fire,  always  trying  to  climb  out 
of  the  hot  crater  that  held  him,  and  never  getting  quite  to 
the  top,  always  knowing  there  was  something  he  must  do, 
yet  never  quite  finding  out  what  it  was.  And  back  in  Sab- 
bath Valley  Aunt  Saxon  prayed  and  cried  and  waited  and 
took  heart  of  cheer  from  the  message  the  Chief  had  sent  to 
Lynn.  And  quietly  the  day  approached  for  the  trial  of 
Mark  Carter,  but  his  mother  did  not  yet  know. 


XXIV 

Mrs.  Gibson,  the  wife  of  the  comparatively  new  elder 
of  the  Sabbath  Valley  church  was  a  semi-invalid.  That  is 
she  wasn't  able  to  do  her  own  work  and  kept  "help."  The 
help  was  a  lady  of  ample  proportions  whose  husband  had 
died  and  whose  fortunes  were  depleted.  She  consented 
to  assist  Mrs.  Gibson  provided  she  were  considered  one 
of  the  family,  and  she  presented  a  continual  front  of  of- 
fense so  that  the  favored  family  must  walk  most  circum- 
spectly if  they  would  not  have  her  retire  to  her  room  with 
hurt  feelings  and  leave  them  to  shift  for  themselves. 

On  the  morning  of  the  trial  she  settled  herself  at  her 
side  of  the  breakfast  table,  after  a  number  of  excursions 
to  the  kitchen  for  things  she  had  forgotten,  the  cream,  the 
coffee,  and  the  brown  bread,  of  which  Mr.  Gibson  was 
very  fond.  She  was  prepared  to  enjoy  her  own  breakfast. 
Mr.  Gibson  generally  managed  to  bolt  his  while  these  ex- 
cursions of  memory  were  being  carried  on  and  escape  the 
morning  news,  but  Mrs.  Gibson,  well  knowing  which  side 
her  bread  was  buttered,  and  not  knowing  where  she  could 
get  another  housekeeper,  usually  managed  to  sit  it  out. 

"  Well,  this  is  a  great  day  for  Sabbath  Valley,"  said 
Mrs.  Frost  mournfully,  spreading  an  ample  slice  of  bread 
eep  with  butter,  and  balancing  it  on  the  uplifted  fingers 
of  one  hand  while  she  stirred  the  remainder  of  the  cream 
into  her  coffee  with  one  of  the  best  silver  spoons.  She 
was  wide  and  bulgy  and  her  chair  always  seemed  inade- 
quate when  she  settled  thus  for  nourishment. 

A  great  day,"  she  repeated  sadly,  taking  an  audible 
sip  of  her  coffee. 

"A  great  day?"  repeated  little  Mrs.  Gibson  with  a 
uzzled  air,  quickly  recalling  her  abstracted  thoughts. 

269 


270  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

"  Yes.  Nobody  ever  thought  anybody  in  Sabbath  Val- 
ley would  ever  be  tried  for  murder !  " 

"Oh!"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  sharply,  drawing  back  her 
chair  as  if  she  were  in  a  hurry  and  rolUng  up  her  nap- 
kin quickly. 

"  Yes,  poor  Mark  Carter !  I  remember  his  sweet  little 
face  and  his  long  yellow  curls  and  his  baby  smile  as  if  it 
were  yesterday !  '*  narrowing  her  eyes  and  harrowing  her 
voice,  "  I  wonder  if  his  poor  mother  knows  yet." 

"  I  should  hope  not !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson  rising  precipi- 
tately and  wandering  over  to  the  window  where  hung  a 
gilded  canary  cage.  "  Mrs.  Frost,  did  you  remember  tc 
give  the  canary  some  seed  and  fresh  water  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  b'lieve  so,"  responded  the  fat  lady,  "  But  you 
can't  keep  her  from  knowing  it  always.  Whatt'U  you  dc 
when  he's  hungf  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  easier  foi 
her  to  get  used  to  it  little  by  little  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Frost,  if  you  were  a  dog  would  you  rather  have 
your  tail  cut  off  all  at  once,  or  little  by  little?  "  said  Mrs. 
Gibson  mischievously. 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  have  it  cut  off  at  all  I'm  quite 
sure,"  said  Mrs.  Frost  frostily. 

"  Well,  perhaps  Mrs.  Carter  might  feel  that  way  too," 
said  the  lady  bending  over  a  rose  geranium  and  pinching 
a  leaf  to  smell. 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Mrs.  Frost  from  hex 
coffee  cup,  **  Oh,  you  mean  that  perhaps  Mark  may  not 
be  convicted  ?  Why,  my  dear  lady,  there  isn't  a  chance  at 
all,  not  a  chance  in  the  world  for  Mark,  and  while  I'm  real 
sorry  I  can't  say  I'd  approve.  Think  of  how  he's  carriec 
on,  going  with  that  little  huzzy  of  a  Cherry.  Mrs.  Harri- 
cutt  says  she  saw  him  have  her  out  riding  in  his  automobile 
one  day — !" 

"Oh, — Mrs.  Harricutt!"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  impa- 
tiently, "  Mrs.  Frost,  let's  find  something  pleasanter  to  tall^ 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  271 

about.  It^s  a  wonderful  morning.  The  air's  like  wine.  I 
,wonder  If  I  couldn't  take  a  little  walk.  I  mean  to  ask 
the  doctor." 

"  My  dear  woman,"  said  Frost  patronizingly,  "  You 
can't  get  away  from  the  unpleasant  things  in  this  world  by 
just  not  talking  about  them !  " 

"  It  seems  not,"  said  the  Gibson  lady  patiently,  and 
wandered  out  on  the  porch. 

■   Down  the  street  Marilyn  lingered  by  her  mother's  chair : 
"Are  you — going  to  Economy  to-day,  mother?" 
"  Yes,  dear,  your  father  and  I  are  both  going.     Did 
you — ^think  you  ought — ^wanted  to — go  dear?" 

"  Oh,  I  should  hate  it! "  cried  Lynn  flinging  out  her 
hands  with  a  terrible  little  gesture  of  despair,  "But  I 
wanted  to  go  just  to  stand  by  Mark.  I  shall  be  there 
anyway,  wherever  I  am.  I  shall  see  everything  and  feel 
everything  in  my  heart  I  know.  But  in  the  night  it  came  to 
me  that  some  one  ought  to  stay  with  Mrs.  Carter !  " 

"  Yes,  dear !  I  had  hoped  you  would  think  of  that.  I 
didn't  want  to  mention  it  because  I  wanted  you  to  follow 
your  own  heart's  leading,  but  I  think  she  needs  you.  I£ 
you  could  keep  her  from  finding  out  until  it  was  over — " 

"But  suppose — !" 

"  Yes,  dear,  it  is  possible.  I've  thought  of  that,  and  if 
it  comes  there  will  be  a  way  I'm  sure,  but  until  it  does — 
then  suppose — " 

"  Yes,  mother,  I'll  go  and  make  her  have  one  happy  day 
first  anyway."  If  any  of  those  old  vultures  come  around 
I'll  play  the  piano  or  scream  all  the  while  they  are  there  and 
keep  them  from  telling  her  a  thing!  " 

"I  think,  dear,  the  vultures  will  all  be  in  Economy 
to-day." 

"  All  except  Mrs.  Frost,  mother  dear.  She  can't  get 
away.  But  she  can  always  run  across  the  street  to  borrow; 
a  cup  of  soda." 


272  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

So  Lynn  knelt  for  a  moment  in  her  quiet  room,  then 
came  down,  kissed  her  mother  and  father  with  a  face  of 
brave  serenity,  and  went  down  the  maple  shaded  street 
with  her  silk  work  bag  in  her  hand.  And  none  too  soon. 
As  she  tapped  at  the  door  of  the  Carter  house  she  saw  Mrs. 
Frost  ambling  purposefully  out  of  the  Gibson  gate  with  a 
tea  cup  in  her  hand. 

*'  Oh,  hurry  upstairs  and  stay  there  a  minute  till  I  get 
rid  of  Mrs.  Frost,''  Lynn  whispered  smiling  as  her  hostess 
let  her  in.  "  I've  come  to  spend  the  day  with  you,  and  she'll 
stay  till  she's  told  you  all  the  news  and  there  won't  be  any 
left  for  me." 

Mrs.  Carter,  greatly  delighted  with  Lynn's  company, 
hurried  obediently  up  the  stairs  and  Lynn  met  the  inter- 
loper, supplied  her  with  the  cup  of  salt  she  had  come  for 
this  time,  said  Mrs.  Carter  was  upstairs  making  the  beds 
and  she  wouldn't  bother  her  to  come  down, — beds,  mind 
you,  as  if  Mark  was  at  home  of  course — and  Mrs.  Frost 
went  back  across  the  street  puzzled  and  baffled  and  resolved 
to  come  back  later  for  an  ^gg  after  that  forward  young 
daughter  of  the  minister  was  gone. 

Lynn  locked  the  front  door  and  ran  up  stairs.  She 
tolled  her  hostess  up  to  the  attic  to  show  her  some  ancient 
gowns  and  poke  bonnets  that  she  hadn't  seen  since  she 
was  a  little  girl  in  which  she  and  Mark  used  to  dress  up 
and  play  history  stories. 

Half  the  morning  she  kept  her  up  there  looking  at 
garments  long  folded  away,  whose  wearers  had  slept  in 
the  church  yard  many  years ;  trinkets  of  other  days,  quaint 
old  pictures,  photographs  and  daguerreotypes,  and  a  beauti- 
ful curl  of  Mark's — : 

"  Marilyn,  I'm  going  to  give  that  to  you,"  the  mother 
said  as  she  saw  the  shining  thing  lying  in  the  girl's  hand, 
'*  There's  no  one  living  to  care  for  it  after  I'm  gone,  and 
you  will  keep  it  I  know  till  you're  sure  there's  no  one  would 
want  it  I — mean — ! " 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  273 

"  I  understand  what  you  mean,"  said  Marilyn,  "  I  will 
keep  it  and  love  it — for  you — and  for  him.  And  if  there 
is  ever  anybody  else  that — deserves  it — ^why  I'll  give  it 
to  them — !"  Then  they  both  laughed  to  hide  the  tears  be- 
hind the  unspoken  thoughts,  and  the  mother  added  a  little 
stubbed  shoe  and  a  sheer  muslin  cap,  all  delicate  embroid- 
ery and  hemstitching: 

"  They  go  together,"  she  said  simply,  and  Lynn  wrap- 
ped them  all  carefully  in  a  bit  of  tissue  paper  and  laid 
them  in  her  silk  bag.  As  she  turned  away  she  held  it  close 
to  her  heart  while  the  mother  closed  the  shutters.  She 
shuddered  to  think  of  the  place  where  Mark  was  sitting 
now,  being  tried  for  his  life.  Her  heart  flew  over  the 
road,  entered  the  court  and  stood  close  by  his  side,  with 
her  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  then  slipped  it  in  his.  She 
wondered  if  he  knew  that  she  was  praying,  praying,  pray- 
ing for  him  and  standing  by  him,  taking  the  burden  of 
what  would  have  been  his  mother's  grief  if  she  had  known, 
as  well  as  the  heavy  burden  of  her  own  sorrow. 

The  air  of  the  court  room  was  heavy  for  the  place  was 
crowded.  Almost  everybody  from  Sabbath  Valley  that 
could  come  was  there,  for  a  great  many  people  loved  Mark 
Carter,  and  this  seemed  a  time  when  somehow  they  must 
stand  by  him.  People  came  that  liked  him  and  some  that 
did  not  like  him,  but  more  that  liked  him  and  kept  hoping 
against  hope  that  he  would  not  be  indicted. 

The  hum  of  voices  suddenly  ceased  as  the  prisoner  was 
led  in  and  a  breath  of  awe  passed  over  the  place.  For  until 
that  minute  no  one  was  quite  sure  that  Mark  Carter  would 
.appear. It  had  been  rumored  again  and  again  that  he  had  run 
away.  Yet  here  he  was,  walking  tall  and  straight,  his  fine 
head  held  high  as  had  been  his  wont.  "  For  all  the  world 
like  he  walked  when  he  was  usher  at  Mary  Anne's  wedding, 
whispered  Mrs.  Hulse,  from  Unity." 

The  minister  and  his  wife  kept  their  eyes  down  after 
the  first  glimpse  of  the  white  face.    It  seemed  a  desecra- 

18 


274  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

tion  to  look  at  a  face  that  had  suffered  as  that  one  had.  Yet 
the  expression  upon  it  now  was  more  as  if  it  had  been  set 
for  a  certain  purpose  for  this  day,  and  did  not  mean  to 
change  whatever  came.  A  hopeless,  sad,  persist  look,  yet 
strong  withal  and  with  a  hint  of  something  fine  and  high 
behind  it. 

He  did  not  look  around  as  he  sat  down,  merely  nodded 
to  a  few  close  to  him  whom  he  recognized,  A  number 
pressed  close  as  he  passed,  and  touched  him,  as  if  they 
would  impress  upon  him  their  loyalty,  and  it  was  notice- 
able that  these  were  mostly  of  a  humble  class,  working 
men,  boys,  and  a  few  old  women,  people  to  whom  he  had 
been  kind. 

Mrs.  Severn  wrote  a  little  note  and  sent  it  up  to  him, 
with  the  message,  "  Lynn  is  with  your  mother."  Just  that. 
No  name  signed.  But  his  eyes  sought  hers  at  once  and 
seemed  to  light,  and  soon,  without  any  apparent  move- 
ment on  his  part  a  card  came  back  to  her  bearing  the 
words :  "  I  thank  you.''  But  he  did  not  look  that  way 
again  all  day  it  seemed.  His  bearing  was  quiet,  sad,  aloof, 
one  might  almost  have  said  disinterested. 

Mark's  lawyer  was  one  whom  he  had  picked  out  of 
the  gutter  and  literally  forced  to  stop  drinking  and  get 
back  on  his  job.  He  was  a  man  of  fine  mind  and  deep  grati- 
tude, and  was  having  a  frantic  time  with  his  client,  for 
Mark  simply  wouldn't  talk: 

"I  wasn't  there,  I  was  on  Stark  mountain,  I  am  not 
guilty,"  he  persisted,  "  and  that  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

"  But  my  dear  friend,  don't  you  realize  that  mere  state- 
ments unadorned  and  uncorroborated  won't  get  you  any- 
where in  court?  " 

"  All  right,  don't  try  to  defend  me  then.  Let  the  thing 
go  as  it  will.  That  is  all  I  have  to  say."  And  from  this 
decision  no  one  had  been  able  to  shake  him.  His 
lawyer  was  nearly  crazy.  He  had  raked  the  county  for 
witnesses.     He  had  dug  into  the  annals  of  that  night  in 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  275 

every  possible  direction.  He  had  unearthed  things  that  it 
seemed  no  Hving  being  would  have  thought  of,  and  yet  he 
had  not  found  the  one  thing  of  which  he  was  in  search, 
positive  evidence  that  Mark  Carter  had  been  elsewhere 
and  otherwise  employed  at  the  time  of  the  shooting. 

"  Don't  bother  so  much  about  it  Tony,"  said  Mark 
once  when  they  were  talking  it  over,  or  the  lawyer  was 
talking  it  over  and  Mark  was  listening.  **  It  doesn't  mat- 
ter. Nothing  matters  any  more !  "  and  his  voice  was  weary 
as  if  all  hope  had  vanished  from  him. 

Anthony  Drew  looked  at  him  in  despair : 

"  Sometimes  I  almost  think  you  want  to  die,"  he  said. 
"  Do  you  think  I  shall  let  you  go  when  you  pulled  me  back 
from  worse  than  death?  No,  Mark,  old  man,  we're  going 
to  pull  you  through  somehow,  though  I  don't  know  how. 
If  I  were  a  praying  man  I'd  say  that  this  was  the  time  to 
pray.  Mark,  what's  become  of  that  kid  you  used  to  think 
so  much  of,  that  was  always  tagging  after  you?  Billy, — 
was  that  his  name  ?  " 

A  wan  smile  flitted  across  Mark's  face,  and  a  stiff  little 
drawing  of  the  old  twinkle  about  eyes  and  lips : 

"  I  think  he'll  turn  up  some  time." 

The  lawyer  eyed  him  keenly : 

"  Mark,  I  believe  you've  got  something  up  your  sleeve. 
I  believe  that  kid  knows  something  and  you  won't  let  him 
tell.    Where  is  he?" 

"  I  don't  know,  Tony"  and  Mark  looked  at  him 
straight  with  clear  eyes,  and  the  lawyer  knew  he  was  telling 
the  truth. 

Just  at  the  last  day  Anthony  Drew  found  out  about  the 
session  meeting.  But  from  Mark  he  got  no  further  state- 
ment than  the  first  one.  Mark  would  not  talk.  An  ordi- 
nary lawyer,  one  that  had  not  been  saved  himself,  would 
have  given  up  the  defense  as  hopeless.  Anthony  simply 
wouldn't  let  Mark  go  undefended.  If  there  were  no  evi- 
dence he  would  make  some  somehow,  and  so  he  worked 


276  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

hoping  against  hope  up  to  the  very  last  minute.  He  stood 
now,  ta^  anxious,  a  fine  face,  though  showing  the  marks 
of  wreck  behind  him,  dark  hair  silvered  at  the  edges,  fine 
deep  lines  about  his  eyes  and  brows,  looking  over  the 
assembled  throng  with  nervous  hurrying  eyes.  At  last  he 
seemed  to  find  what  he  wanted  and  came  quickly  down  to 
where  the  minister  sat  in  an  obscure  corner,  whispering 
a  few  words  with  him.  They  went  out  together  for  a  few 
minutes  and  when  they  came  back  the  minister  was  grave 
and  thoughtful.  He  himself  had  scoured  the  country 
round  about  quietly  for  Billy,  and  he  was  deeply  puzzled. 
He  had  promised  to  tell  what  he  knew. 

The  business  of  the  day  went  forward  in  the  usual  way 
with  all  the  red  tape,  the  cool  formalities,  as  if  some  trifling 
matter  were  at  stake,  and  those  who  loved  Mark  sat  with 
aching  hearts  and  waited.  The  Severns  in  their  corner  sat 
for  the  most  part  with  bended  heads  and  praying  hearts. 
The  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  were  most  of  them  com- 
panions of  the  dead  man,  those  who  had  drank  and 
caroused  with  him,  frequenters  of  the  Blue  Duck,  and  they 
were  herded  together,  an  evil  looking  crowd,  but  with 
erect  heads  and  defiant  attitude,  the  air  of  having*  donned 
unaccustomed  garments  of  righteousness  for  the  occasion, 
and  making  a  great  deal  of  it  because  for  once  every  one 
must  see  that  they  were  in  the  right.  They  were  fairly 
loud  mouthed  in  their  boasting  about  it. 

There  was  the  little  old  wizened  up  fellow  that  had  been 
sitting  with  the  drinks  outside  the  booth  the  night  Billy 
telephoned.  There  were  the  serving  men  who  had  waited 
on  Mark  and  Cherry.  There  was  the  proprietor  of  the 
Blue  Duck  himself,  who  testified  that  Mark  had  often  been 
there  with  Cherry,  though  always  early  in  the  evening. 
Once  he  had  caught  him  outside  the  window  looking  in  at  I 
the  dancers  as  late  as  two  o'clock  at  night,  the  same  win- 
dow from  which  the  shot  was  fired  that  brought  Dolph  to 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  277 

his  death.  They  testified  that  Mark  had  been  seen  with 
Qierry  much  of  late  driving  in  his  car,  and  that  she  had 
often  been  in  deep  converse  as  if  having  a  hot  argument 
about  something. 

The  feeling  was  tense  in  the  court  room.  Tears  were 
in  many  eyes,  hopeless  tears  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  had 
loved  the  boy  for  years. 

But  the  grilling  order  marched  on,  and  witness  after 
witness  came,  adding  another  and  another  little  touch  to  the 
gradually  rising  structure  that  would  shut  Mark  Carter 
away  from  the  world  that  loved  him  and  that  he 
loved  forever. 

Cherry  was  called,  a  flaunting  bit  of  a  child  with  bobbed 
golden  hair  and  the  air  of  a  bold  young  seraph,  her  white 
face  bravely  painted,  her  cherry  lips  cherrier  even  than  the 
cherry  for  which  she  had  been  named.  She  wore  a  silk  coat 
reaching  to  the  bottom  of  her  frock,  which  was  shorter 
than  the  shortest,  and  daring  little  high-heeled  many 
strapped  shoes  with  a  myriad  of  bright  buckles.  Her  hat 
was  an  insolent  affair  of  cherry  red.  She  made  a  blinding 
bit  of  color  in  the  dreary  court  room.  She  appeared  half 
frightened,  half  defiant.  Her  sharp  little  face  seemed  to 
have  lost  its  round  curves  and  childlike  sweetness.  She 
testified  that  she  had  been  with  Mark  on  the  night  of  the 
shooting,  but  that  he  had  taken  her  home  early  and  she  had 
seen  no  more  of  him  that  night.  She  admitted  that  she  had 
returned  later  to  the  Blue  Duck  Tavern  with  Dolph  and 
had  danced  late  and  eaten  supper  with  him  afterwards,  and 
that  it  was  while  they  were  eating  that  the  shot  was  fired 
and  Dolph  fell  over  on  the  table.  No,  she  didn't  see  any 
face  at  the  window.  She  had  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands  and  screamed.  She  guessed  she  fainted.  Questioned 
further  she  admitted  that  she  had  had  an  argument  with 
Mark  earlier  in  the  evening,  but  she  "  didn't  remember 
what  it  was  about."  They  often  argued.  Yes,  Dolph  was 
jealous  of  Mark  and  tried  to  stop  her  going  with  him.  Yes, 


278  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Mark  had  tried  to  stop  her  going  with  Dolph  too,  but  he 
never  acted  jealous — On  and  on  through  the  sorry  Httle 
details  of  Cherry's  career.  The  court  room  vultures  re- 
ceiving it  avidly,  the  more  refined  part  of  the  company 
with  distaste  and  disgust.  Mark  sat  with  stern  white  face 
looking  straight  at  Cherry  all  the  time  she  was  on  the  stand 
as  if  he  dared  her  to  say  other  than  the  truth.  When  she 
happened  to  look  that  way  she  gave  a  giggling  little  shud- 
der and  half  turned  her  shoulder  away,  avoiding  his  eyes. 
But  when  she  was  done  she  had  said  nothing  against  Mark, 
and  nothing  to  clear  him  either. 

The  sharp  unscrupulous  lawyer  who  acted  for  the 
prosecution  had  secured  some  fellows  "  of  the  baser  sort '' 
who  testified  that  they  had  seen  Mark  Carter  buying  a  gun, 
that  they  had  seen  him  creep  softly  to  the  window,  peer 
into  the  room,  and  take  aim.  They  had  been  on  their  way 
home,  had  seen  Mark  steal  along  in  a  very  suspicious  man- 
ner and  had  followed  him  to  find  out  what  it  meant. 
There  were  three  of  them,  fellows  whom  Mark  had  re- 
fused to  play  against  on  a  County  team  because  they  were 
what  is  called  "  dirty  "  players.  There  had  been  hot  words 
between  Mark  and  them  once  when  one  of  them  had  kicked 
a  man  in  the  face  with  spiked  shoes  who  was  just  about 
to  make  a  goal.  Mark  had  succeeded  in  winning  the  umpire 
to  his  point  of  view  and  the  others  had  lost  their  game  and 
incidentally  some  money,  and  they  had  a  grudge  against 
him.  Moreover  there  was  money  in  this  testimony  for 
The  Blue  Duck  Tavern  could  not  afford  to  have  its  habi- 
tues in  the  public  eye,  and  preferred  to  place  the  blame  on 
a  man  who  belonged  more  to  the  conservative  crowd.  The 
Blue  Duck  had  never  quite  approved  of  Mark,  because 
though  he  came  and  went  he  never  drank,  and  he  some- 
times prevented  others  from  doing  so.  This  was  unprofit- 
able to  them.  So  matters  stood  when  the  noon-hour  came 
and  court  adjourned  for  lunch. 


XXV 

And  while  the  long  morning  dragged  itself  away  in 
Economy  listening  to  a  tale  of  shame,  over  on  the  bright 
Jersey  coast  the  waves  washed  lazily  on  a  silver  strand 
reflecting  the  blueness  of  the  September  sky,  and  soft 
breezes  hovered  around  the  classic  Uttle  hospital  building 
that  stood  in  a  grove  of  imported  palms,  and  lifted  its 
white  columns  picturesquely  like  some  old  Greek  temple. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  life  he  was  living  now  to 
remind  Billy  of  either  hell  or  Sabbath  Valley,  yet  for  long 
days  and  weeks  he  had  struggled  through  flames  in  a  deep 
dark  pit  lighted  only  by  lurid  glare  and  his  soul  had  well 
nigh  gone  out  under  the  torture.  Once  the  doctors  and 
nurses  had  stood  around  and  waited  for  his  last  breath. 
This  was  a  marked  case.  The  Shaftons  were  deeply  inter- 
ested in  it.  The  boy  had  mysteriously  brought  back  all 
their  valuable  papers  and  jewels  that  had  been  stolen  from 
them,  and  they  were  anxious  to  put  him  on  his  feet  again. 
It  went  sadly  against  the  comfortable  self-complacent 
grain  of  a  Shafton  to  feel  himself  under  such  mortal 
obligation  to  any  one. 

But  Billy  was  tougher  than  anyone  knew,  and  one 
night  after  he  had  made  the  usual  climb  through  the  hot 
coals  on  his  bare  knees  to  the  top  of  the  pit,  and  come  to 
the  place  where  he  always  fell  back,  he  held  on  a  little > 
tighter  and  set  his  teeth  a  little  harder,  and  suddenly,  with 
a  long  hard  pull  that  took  every  atom  of  strength  in  his 
wasted  young  body,  he  went  over  the  top.  Over  the  top 
and  out  into  the  clean  open  country  where  he  could  feel 
the  sea  breeze  on  his  hot  forehead  and  know  that  it  was 
good.    He  was  out  of  hell  and  he  was  cooling  off.    The 

279 


£80  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

first  step  in  the  awful  fight  that  began  that  nigfit  in  the 
old  haunted  house  on  the  mountain  had  been  won. 

For  three  days  he  lay  thus,  cooling  off  and  resting.  He 
was  fed  and  cared  for  but  he  took  no  cognizance  of  it 
except  to  smile  weakly.  Swallowing  things  was  like 
breathing.  You  had  to  do  it  and  you  didn't  think  about  it. 
The  fourth  day  he  began  to  know  the  nurses  apart,  and 
to  realize  he  was  feeling  better.  As  yet  the  past  lay  like  a 
blurr  of  pain  on  his  mind,  and  he  hadn't  a  care  about  any- 
thing save  just  to  lie  and  know  that  it  was  good  to  smell 
the  salt,  and  see  the  shimmer  of  blue  from  the  window. 
At  times  when  he  slept  the  sound  of  bells  in  old  hymns 
came  to  him  like  a  dream  and  he  smiled.  But  on  the  fifth 
morning  he  lifted  his  light  head  uncertainly  and  looked 
out  of  the  window.  Gee!  That  was  pretty!  And  he 
dropped  back  and  slept  again.  When  he  awoke  there  was 
a  real  meal  for  him.  No  more  slops.  Soup,  and  potato 
and  a  bit  of  bread  and  butter.  Gee !  It  tasted  good !  He 
slept  again  and  it  was  morning,  or  was  it  the  same  morn- 
ing? He  didn't  know.  He  tried  to  figure  back  and  decided 
he  had  been  in  that  hospital  about  three  days,  but  when  the 
next  morning  dawned  and  he  felt  the  life  creeping  back 
into  his  veins  he  began  to  be  uncertain.  He  asked  the 
nurse  how  soon  he  could  get  up  and  get  dressed.  She 
smiled  in  a  superior  way  and  said  the  doctor  hadn't  said. 
It  would  likely  be  sometime  yet,  he  had  been  pretty  sick. 
He  told  her  sharply  he  couldn't  spare  much  more  time, 
and  asked  her  where  his  clothes  were. 

She  laughed  and  said : 

**  Oh,  put  away.  You'll  have  some  new  clothes  when 
•you  get  well.  I  heard  Mrs.  Shafton  talking  about  it  this 
morning  when  she  was  in  the  office.  She's  coming  to  see 
you  pretty  soon,  and  they  mean  to  do  a  lot  for  you.  You 
brought  back  her  jewels  didn't  you?  Well,  I  guess  you'll 
get  your  reward  all  right," 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  281 

Billy  looked  at  her  blankly.  Reward!  Gosh!  Was 
that  reward  going  to  meet  him  again  ? 

"  Say/'  said  he  frowning,  "  I  want  my  own  clothes.  I 
don't  want  any  new  ones.  I  want  my  own!  Say,  I  got 
some  stuff  in  my  pockets  I  don't  wantta  have 
monkeyed  with!  " 

"  All  right,"  she  said  cheerily,  "  They're  put  away 
safe.  You  can  have  them  when  you're  well."  But  when  he 
asked  her  suddenly  what  day  it  was  she  said  vaguely 
*'  Tuesday,"  and  went  away.  He  was  so  tired  then  he 
went  to  sleep  again  and  slept  till  they  brought  his  din- 
ner, a  big  one,  chicken  and  fixings  and  jelly,  and  a  dish  of 
ice  cream!  Oh,  Gee!  And  then  he  went  to  sleep 
again.  But  in  the  morning — how  many  days  was  it 
then  ?  He  woke  to  sudden  consciousness  of  what  he  had  to 
do  and  to  sudden  suspicion  of  the  time.  Billy  was  coming 
back  to  his  own.  His  wilyness  had  returned.  He  smiled 
at  the  nurse  ravi shingly  and  asked  for  a  newspaper,  but 
when  she  brought  it  he  pretended  to  be  asleep,  so  she  laid 
it  down  and  went  away  softly.  But  he  nabbed  that  paper 
with  a  weak  hand  zs  soon  as  her  back  was  turned  and  read 
the  date!  His  heart  fell  down  with  a  dull  thud.  The 
third !  This  was  the  day  of  the  trial !  It  couldn't  be !  He 
read  again.  Was  it  really  the  day  of  the  trial  ?  The  paper 
that  had  the  court  program  had  been  in  his  trousers 
pocket.  He  must  have  it  at  once.  Perhaps  he  had  made 
a  mistake.  Oh,  gee !  What  it  was  to  be  helpless !  Why, 
he  was  weaker  than  Aunt  Saxon ! 

He  called  the  nurse  crossly.  She  bustled  in  and  told 
him  the  doctor  had  just  said  he  might  sit  up  to-morrow  if 
he  kept  on  without  a  temperature  for  twenty- four  hours 
longer.  But  he  paid  no  heed  to  her.  He  demanded  his  clothes 
with  a  young  roar  of  a  voice  that  made  her  open  her  eyes. 
Billy  had  heretofore  been  the  meekest  of  meek  patients. 
She  was  getting  the  voice  and  manner  now  that  he  gener* 


282  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

ally  retained  for  family  use.  He  told  her  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  pocket  he  must  see  right  away,  and  he  made 
such  a  fuss  about  it  that  she  was  afraid  he  would  bring  up 
his  temperature  again  and  finally  agreed  to  get  the  clothes 
if  he  would  lie  real  still  and  rest  afterward.  Billy  dropped 
his  head  back  on  the  pillow  and  solemnly  said: 
"Aw'wright !  "  He  had  visions  of  going  to  court  in  blue 
and  white  striped  pajamas.  It  could  be  done,  but  he  didn't 
reHsh  it.    Still,  if  he  had  to — ! 

The  nurse  brought  his  jacket  and  trousers.  The 
sweater  was  awfuUy  dirty  she  said,  but  she  was  finally 
prevailed  upon  to  bring  that  too,  and  Billy  obediently  lay 
down  with  closed  eyes  and  his  arm  stretched  out  comfort- 
ingly over  the  bundles.  The  nurse  hovered  round  till  he 
seemed  to  be  asleep  and  then  slipped  out  for  a  moment,  and 
the  instant  her  white  skirt  had  vanished  from  the  doorway 
Billy  was  alert.  He  fumbled  the  bundles  open  with 
nervous  fingers  and  searched  eagerly  for  the  bit  of  paper. 
Yes,  there  it  was  and  the  date  the  third  of  September. 
Aw  Gee! 

He  flung  back  the  neatly  tucked  sheets,  poked  a  slim 
white  foot  that  didn't  look  like  his  at  all  into  a  trouser  leg,  j 
paused  for  breath  and  dove  the  other  in,  struggled  into  his  i 
jacket  and  lay  down  again  quicl:!y  under  the  sheet.    Was  i; 
that  the  nurse  ?  I 

He  had  to  admit  that  he  felt  queer,  but  it  would  soon, 
pass  off,  and  anyhow  if  it  killed  him  he  had  to  go.  Aw; 
bah !  What  was  a  little  sickness  anyhow  ?  If  he  stayed  in 
the  hospital  any  longer  they'd  make  a  baby  out  of  him ! 

The  nurse  had  not  returned.  He  could  hear  the  soft 
plunk,  plunk  of  her  rubber  heels  on  the  marble  steps.  She 
was  going  down  stairs.  Now  was  his  time!  Of  course 
he  had  no  shoes  and  stockings,  but  what  was  a  little  thing 
like  that?  He  grasped  the  bundle  of  sweater  tightly  and 
slid  out  of  bed.     His  feet  felt  quite  inadequate.     In  fact 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  283 

he  began  to  doubt  their  identity.  They  didn't  seem  to  be 
there  at  all  when  he  stood  on  them,  but  he  was  not  to  Idc 
foiled  by  feet.  If  they  meant  to  stick  by  him  they'd  gotta 
obey  him. 

Slowly,  cautiously,  with  his  head  swimming  lightly  on 
ahead  of  him  and  a  queer  gasp  of  emptiness  in  the  region 
of  his  chest  that  seemed  to  need  a  great  deal  of  breath,  he 
managed  a  passage  to  the  door,  looked  down  the  long 
white  corridor  with  its  open  doors  and  cheerful  voices,  saw 
a  pair  of  stairs  to  the  right  quite  near  by,  and  with  his 
steadying  hands  on  the  cool  white  wall  slid  along  the  short 
space  to  the  top  step.  It  seemed  an  undertaking  to  get 
down  that  first  step,  but  when  that  was  accomplished  he 
was  out  of  sight  and  he  sat  down  and  slid  slowly  the  rest 
of  the  way,  wondering  why  he  felt  so  rotten. 

At  the  foot  of  the  long  stairs  there  was  a  door,  and 
strange  it  was  made  so  heavy !  He  wondered  a  nurse  could 
swing  it  open,  just  a  mere  girl !  But  he  managed  it  at  last, 
almost  winded,  and  stumbled  out  on  the  portico  that  gave 
to  the  sea,  a  wide  blue  stretch  before  him.  He  stopped, 
startled,  as  if  he  had  unexpectedly  sighted  the  heavenly 
strand,  and  gazed  blinking  at  the  stretch  of  blue  with  the 
wide  white  shore  and  the  boom  of  an  organ  following  the 
lapping  of  each  white  crested  wave.  Those  palm  trees  cer- 
tainly made  it  look  queer  like  Saxy's  Pilgrim's  Progress 
picture  book.  Then  the  panic  for  home  and  his  business 
came  upon  him  and  he  slid  weakly  down  the  shallow  white 
steps,  and  crunched  his  white  feet  on  the  gravel  wincing. 
He  had  just  taken  to  the  grass  at  the  edge  and  was  man- 
aging better  than  he  had  hoped  when  a  neat  little  coupe 
rounded  the  curve  of  the  drive,  and  his  favorite  doctor 
came  swinging  up  to  the  steps,  eyeing  him  keenly.  Billy 
started  to  run,  and  fell  in  a  crumpled  heap,  white  and 
scared  and  crying  real  tears,  weak,  pink  tears! 

"  Why  Billy !    What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  The  stern 


284  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

loving  voice  of  his  favorite  doctor  hung  over  him  like  a 
knife  that  was  going  to  cut  him  off  forever  from  Hfe  and 
light  and  forgiveness  and  all  that  he  counted  dear. 

But  Billy  stopped  crying. 

"  Nothin,"  he  said,  "  I  just  come  out  fer  a  walk !  '* 

The  doctor  smiled. 

''  But  I  didn't  tell  you  you  might,  Billy  boy!  " 

"  Had  to,"  said  Billy. 

"  Well,  you'll  find  you'll  have  to  go  back  again,  Billy. 
Come ! "  and  the  doctor  stooped  his  broad  strong 
shoulders  to  pick  up  the  boy.  But  Billy  beat  him 
off  weakly :  j 

"  Say,  now.  Doc,  wait  a  minute,"  he  pleaded,  "  It's 
jus'  this  way.  I  simply  gotta  get  back  home  t'day.  I'm  a 
very  'mportant  witness  in  a  murder  case.  See?  My  bes' 
friend  in  the  world  is  bein'  tried  fer  life,  an'  he  ain't  guilty, 
an'  I'm  the  only  one  that  knows  it  fer  sure,  an'  can  prove 
it,  an'  I  gotta  be  there.  Why,  Doc,  the  trial's  going  on  now 
an'  I  ain't  there !  It  ud  drive  me  crazy  to  go  back  an'  lay 
in  that  soft  bed  Hke  a  reg'lar  sissy,  an'  know  he's  going  to 
be  condemned.  I  put  it  to  you.  Doc,  as  man  to  man,  would 
you  stand  fer  a  thing  like  that?  " 

"  But  Billy,  suppose  it  should  be  the  end  of  you !  " 

"  I  sh'd  worry.  Doc !  Ef  I  c'n  get  there  in  time  an'  say 
what  I  want  I  ain't  carin  'fer  anythin'  more  in  life  I  tell  ye. 
Say,  Doc,  you  wouldn't  stop  me,  would  ya  ?  Ef  you  did  I'd 
get  thar  anyhow  someway! " 

The  earnestness  of  the  eager  young  face,  wan  in  its 
illness,  the  light  of  love  in  the  big  gray  eyes,  went  to  the 
doctor's  heart.    He  gave  the  boy  a  troubled  look. 

"  Where  is  it  you  want  to  go,  Billy  ?  " 

"  Economy,  Doc.    It  ain't  far,  only  two  or  three  hours') 
ride.  I  c'n  get  a  jitney  somewheres  I  guess  ta  take  me.    I'll 
pay  up  ez  soon  as  I  get  home.    I  got  thirty  dollars  in  the 
bank  my  own  self." 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  285 

"  Economy !  "  said  the  Doctor.  "  Impossible,  Billy,  it 
would  kill  you — !  " 

"  Then  I'm  goin'  anyhow.  Good-by  Doc ! "  and  he 
darted  away  from  the  astonished  doctor  and  ran  a  rod  or 
so  before  the  doctor  caught  up  with  him  and  seized  him 
firmly  by  his  well  shoulder: 

"  Billy,  look  here !  "  said  the  Doctor,  "  If  it's  as  bad  as 
that  I'll  take  you!'' 

"  Oh,  would  ya,  Doc?  Would  ya?  I'll  never  forget 
itDoc— !" 

"  There  now,  Billy,  never  mind,  son,  you  save  your 
strength  and  let  me  manage  this  thing  the  right  way. 
-Couldn't  I  telephone  and  have  them  hold  up  things  a  few 
days  ?    That  can  be  done  you  know." 

"  Nothin'  doing  Doc,  there's  them  that  would  hurry  it 
up  all  the  more  if  they  thought  I  was  comin'  back.  You  get 
in  Doc  and  start  her  up.  I  c'n  drive  myself  if  you'll  lend 
me  the  m' chine.  P'raps  you  ain't  got  time  to  go  off  'ith  me 
like  this." 

"  That's  all  right,  Billy.  You  and  I  are  going  on  a 
little  excursion.  But  first  I've  got  to  tell  the  nurse,  or 
there'll  be  all  kinds  of  a  time.  Here,  you  sit  in  the 
machine."  The  doctor  picked  him  up  and  put  him 
in  and  ran  up  the  steps.  Billy  sat  dizzily  watching  and 
wondering  if  he  hadn't  better  make  his  escape.  Per- 
haps the  Doc  was  just  fooling  him,  but  in  a  moment  back 
he  came  again,  with  a  nurse  trailing  behind  with  blankets 
and  a  bottle. 

"  We're  going  to  get  another  car,  son,  this  one's  no 
good  for  such  a  trip.  We'll  fix  it  so  you  can  lie  down  and 
save  your  strength  for  when  you  get  there.  No, — son — I 
don't  mean  the  ambulance,"  as  he  saw  the  alarm  in  Billy's 
face,  "just  a  nice  big  car.  That's  all  right,  here  she  comes  1" 

The  big  touring  car  came  round  from  the  back  almost 
immediately,  and  the  back  seat  was  heaped  with  pillows 


286  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

and  blankets  and  Billy  tenderly  placed  among  them  where 
he  was  glad  enough  to  lie  down — ^and  close  his  eyes.  It 
had  been  rather,  strenuous.  The  nurse  went  back  for  his 
shoes,  bringing  a  bottle  of  milk  and  his  medicine.  The 
Doctor  got  in  the  front  seat  and  started. 

"  Now,  son,"  he  said,  "  You  rest.  You'll  need  every 
bit  of  strength  when  you  get  there  if  we're  going  to  carry 
this  thing  through.  You  just  leave  this  thing  to  me  and  I'll 
get  you  there  in  plenty  of  time.  Don't  you  worry." 

Billy  with  a  smile  of  heavenly  bliss  over  his  newly 
bleached  freckles  settled  back  with  dreamy  eyes  and 
watched  the  sea  as  they  were  passing  swiftly  by  it,  his 
lashes  drooping  lower  and  lower  over  his  thin  young 
cheeks.  The  doctor  glancing  back  anxiously  caught  that 
look  the  mothers  see  in  the  young  imps  when  they  are 
asleep,  and  a  tenderness  catne  into  his  heart  for  the  staunch 
loyal  little  sinner. 

Doctor  Norris  was  a  good  scout.  If  he  had  got  a  soft 
snap  of  a  job  in  that  Shaft  on  hospital,  it  was  good  practice 
of  course,  and  a  step  to  really  big  things  where  he  wouldn't 
be  dependent  upon  rich  people's  whims,  but  still  he  was  a 
good  scout.  He  had  not  forgotten  the  days  of  the  grass- 
hopper, and  Billy  had  made  a  great  appeal  to  his  heart.  He 
looked  at  his  watch,  chose  his  roads,  and  put  his  machine 
at  high  speed.  The  sea  receded,  the  Jersey  pines  whirled 
monotonously  by,  and  by  and  by  the  hills  began  to  crop  up. 
Off  against  the  horizon  Stark  mountain  loomed,  veiled 
with  a  purple  haze,  and  around  another  curve  Economy 
appeared,  startlingly  out  of  place  with  its  smug  red  brick 
walks  and  its  gingerbread  porches  and  plastered  tile 
bungalows.  Then  without  warning  Billy  sat  up.  How 
long  had  that  young  scamp  been  awake  ?  Had  he  slept  at 
all?  He  was  like  a  man,  grave  and  stern  with  business 
before  him.  The  doctor  almost  felt  shy  about  giving  him 
his  medicine. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  287 

"  Son,  you  must  drink  that  milk/'  he  said  firmly. 
"  Nothing  doing  unless  you  drink  that !  "  Billy  drank  it. 

"  Now  where?  "  asked  the  doctor  as  they  entered  the 
straggling  dirty  little  town. 

"  That  red  brick  building  down  the  next  block/' 
pointed  Billy,  his  face  white  with  excitement,  his  eyes 
burning  like  two  dark  blue  coals. 

The  big  car  drew  up  at  the  curb,  and  no  one  there  to 
notice,  for  every  body  was  inside.  The  place  was  jammed 
to  the  door. 

Cherry  had  come  back  late  after  lunch,  her  hat  awry 
and  signs  of  tears  on  her  painted  face.  Her  eyes  were 
more  obviously  frightened  and  she  whispered  a  message 
which  was  taken  up  to  Mark.  Mark  lifted  a  haggard  face 
to  hear  it,  asked  a  question,  bowed  his  head,  and  continued 
listening  to  the  cross-examination  of  a  man  who  said  he 
had  heard  him  threaten  to  kill  Dolph  the  week  before  the 
murder  down  at  Hagg's  Mills.  When  the  witness  was 
dismissed  Mark  whispered  a  word  to  his  lawyer,  the 
lawyer  spoke  to  the  judge  and  the  judge  announced  that 
the  prisoner  wished  to  speak.  Every  eye  was  turned 
toward  Mark  as  he  rose  and  gave  a  sweeping  glance  around 
the  room,  his  eyes  lingering  for  just  a  shadow  of  an  instant 
wistfully  on  the  faces  of  the  minister  and  his  wife,  then  on 
again  as  if  they  had  seen  no  one,  and  round  to  the 
judge's  face. 

It  was  just  at  this  instant  that  Billy  burst  into  the  room 
and  wedged  his  way  fiercely  between  elbows,  using  his  old 
football  methods,  head  down  and  elbows  out,  and  stood  a 
moment  breathless,  taking  it  all  in. 

Then  Mark  spoke : 

"  Your  Honor,  I  wish  to  plead  guilty  to  the  charge !  " 

A  great  sigh  like  a  sob  broke  over  the  hush  in  the 
court  room  and  many  people  half  rose  to  their  feet  as  if  in 
protest,  but  Billy  made  a  dive  up  the  aisle,  self  and 


288  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

sickness  forgotten,  regardless  of  courts  or  law  or  anything, 
and  stood  between  the  Judge  and  Mark : 

"  It  ain't  so,  an'  I  can  prove  it !  "  he  shouted  at  the  top 
of  his  lungs. 

The  prosecuting  attorney  rose  to  a  point  of  order  like  a 
bull  dog  snapping  at  his  prey,  the  sergeant-at-arms  rushed 
around  like  corn  popping  off  in  a  corn  popper,  but  Anthony 
Drew  whispered  a  word  to  the  Judge,  and  after  order  was 
restored  Billy  was  called  to  the  witness  stand  to  tell 
his  story. 

Doctor  Norris  standing  squeezed  at  the  back  of  the 
room  looking  for  his  quondam  patient,  recognized  with 
a  thrill  the  new  Billy  standing  unafraid  before  all  these 
people  and  speaking  out  his  story  in  a  clear  direct  way. 
Billy  had  etherealized  during  his  illness.  If  Aunt  Saxon 
had  been  there — she  was  washing  for  Gibsons  that  day 
and  having  her  troubles  with  Mrs.  Frost — she  would 
scarcely  have  known  him.  His  features  had  grown  deli- 
cate and  there  was  something  strong  and  sweet  about  his 
mouth  that  surely  never  had  been  there  before.  But  the 
same  old  forceful  boy  speech  wherewith  he  had  subdued 
enemies  on  the  athletic  fields,  buUied  Aunt  Saxon,  and  put 
one  over  on  Pat  at  the  station,  was  still  his  own.  He  told 
the  truth  briefly  and  to  the  point,  not  omitting  his  own 
wrong  doing  in  every  particular,  and  he  swayed  that  crowd 
as  a  great  orator  might  have  been  proud  to  sway  a  congre- 
gation. They  laughed  till  they  cried  and  cried  till  they 
laughed  again  at  Billy's  quaint  phrases,  and  they  enjoyed 
the  detour — Oh  how  they  enjoyed  that  detour!  Even  the 
Judge  had  twinkles  in  his  eyes. 

For  the  first  time  since  the  trial  began  Mark  was  sit- 
ting up  proudly,  a  warm  look  of  vivid  interest  in  his  face, 
the  cold  mask  gone.  His  eyes  dwelt  upon  Billy  with  a  look 
almost  fatherly,  at  least  brotherly.      It  was  a  startling  con- 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  289 

trast  to  what  he  had  been  all  day.     This  was  a  dif- 
ferent man. 

Suddenly  from  the  corner  of  the  prosecution  the  low 
growl  which  had  been  gradually  rising  like  a  young  storm, 
broke,  and  the  prosecuting  attorney  arose  and  lifted  his 
voice  above  all  others : 

"  I  protest  your  Honor,  against  this  witness.  He  has 
mentioned  no  less  than  five  different  Hes  which  he  has  told, 
and  has  narrated  a  number  of  episodes  in  which  he  dehb- 
erately  broke  the  law.  Is  it  or  is  it  not  a  misdemeanor 
for  anyone  to  meddle  with  our  Highroads  in  the  manner 
that  has  just  been  described?  By  his  own  confession  this 
young  man  is  disqualified  for  a  witness !  By  his  own  con- 
fession he  is  a  law  breaker  and  a  liar !  " 

"  Aw  Gee !  "  broke  forth  Billy  furiously,  "  Didn't  I 
tell  ya  I  come  here  to  tell  the  truth  n'  get  it  off'n  my  chest?'* 

Someone  put  a  strong  hand  on  Billy  and  silenced  him, 
and  some  one  else  rose  to  protest  against  the  protestor,  and 
the  air  grew  tense  with  excitement  once  more. 

The  prosecution  declared  that  Billy  was  in  league  with 
Mark,  that  everybody  knew  he  trailed  him  everywhere, 
therefore  his  testimony  was  worthless.  He  was  probably 
bribed ;  there  was  nothing,  absolutely  nothing  in  the  story 
the  boy  had  told  to  prove  anything. 

Billy  was  growing  whiter  and  angrier,  his  eyes  flash- 
ing, his  fists  clenched.  His  testimony  was  not  going  to  be 
accepted  after  all!  It  had  been  vain  to  bear  the  shame 
himself.  Nothing,  nothing  that  he  could  do  would  blot  out 
the  trouble  because  he  had  unfitted  himself  to  blot  it  out. 
It  had  to  be  a  witness  who  told  the  truth  who  would  be 
believed.  It  had  to  be  one  with  a  good  record  to  take 
away  the  shame!  That  was  something  like  what  Miss 
Marilyn  said  in  Sunday  School  once,  that  only  Jesus  Christ 
could  take  the  place  of  a  sinner  and  make  it  right  about 
our  sinning  because  He  had  never  sinned.    It  had  sounded 

19 


290  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

like  rot  when  she  said  it,  but  he  began  to  understand  what 
she  meant  now.  Yes,  that  was  it.  Only  God's  Son  could 
do  that  and  he,  Billy  Gaston,  had  tried  to  do  it  himself ! 

The  court  room  seemed  to  be  very  dark  now.  His 
head  was  whirling  away  and  getting  beyond  his  control. 
When  he  looked  up  he  seemed  to  see  it  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room.  He  did  not  recognize  the  two  men  in  hand- 
cuffs that  the  Chief  was  bringing  into  the  room.  He  did 
not  hear  what  the  Judge  was  saying.  He  had  slumped  in 
a  little  heap  on  the  witness  stand  with  his  eyes  closed,  and 
his  hands  groping  together.  He  thought  that  he  was  pray- 
ing to  God's  Son  to  come  and  help  Mark  because  he  had 
failed.    He  wasn't  good  enough  and  he  had  failed! 

The  doctor  had  come  with  a  bound  up  the  aisle  and  was 
kneeling  with  Billy  in  his  arms.  Mark  was  leaning  over 
the  rail  with  a  white  anxious  face.  The  minister  was  try- 
ing to  make  a  way  through  the  crowd,  and  the  sergeant- 
at-arms  was  pushing  the  crowd  back,  and  making  a  space 
about  the  unconscious  boy.  Some-one  opened  a  window. 
The  Chief  and  one  of  his  men  brought  a  cot.  There  was 
a  pillow  from  the  car,  and  there  was  that  medicine  again — 
bringing  him  back — just  as  he  thought  he  had  made  God 
hear — !    Oh,  why  did  they  bother  him?  " 

Suddenly  down  by  the  door  a  diversion  occurred. 
Someone  had  entered  with  wild  burning  eyes  dressed  in  a 
curious  assortment  of  garments.  They  were  trying  to  put 
him  out,  but  he  persisted. 

The  word  was  brought  up :  "  Someone  has  a  very  im- 
portant piece  of  evidence  which  he  wishes  to  present." 

Billy's  gray  eyes  opened  as  the  man  mounted  to  the 
witness  stand.  He  was  lying  on  the  cot  at  one  side  and 
his  gaze  rested  on  the  new  witness,  dazedly  at  first,  andj 
then  with  growing  comprehension.  Old  Ike  Fenner,  the 
tailor,  Cherry  Fenner's  father! 

Mark  was  looking  at  Billy  and  had  not  noticed : 

But  the  man  began  to  speak  in  a  high  shrill  voice : 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  291 

"  I  came  to  say  that  I'm  the  man  that  killed  Dolph 
Haskins !  Mark  Carter  had  nothin'  to  do  with  it.  I  done 
it !  I  meant  to  kill  him  because  he  ruined  the  life  of  my 
little  girl!    My  baby  J'* 

There  was  a  sudden  catch  in  his  voice  like  a  great  sob, 
and  he  clutched  at  the  rail  as  if  he  were  going  to  fall,  but 
he  went  on,  his  eyes  burning  like  coals : 

"  I  shot  him  with  Tom  Petrie's  gun  that  I  found  atop 
o'  the  door,  an'  I  put  it  back  where  I  found  it.  You  take 
my  finger  prints  and  compare  'em  with  the  marks  on  the 
gun  an'  the  winder  sill.  You  ask  Sandy  Robison!  He 
seen  me  do  it.  You  ask  Cherry !  She  seen  me  too.  She 
was  facin'  the  winder  eatin'  her  supper  with  that  devil, 
and  I  shot  him  and  she  seen  me !    /  did  it — " 

His  voice  trailed  off.  He  swayed  and  got  down  from 
the  stand,  groping  his  way  as  if  he  could  not  see.  The 
crowd  gave  way  with  a  curious  shudder  looking  into  his 
wild  burning  eyes  as  he  passed.  A  girl's  scream  back  by  the 
door  rang  through  the  court.  The  man  moaned,  put  out 
his  hands  and  fell  forward.  Kindly  hands  reached  to  catch 
him.    The  doctor  left  Billy  and  came  to  help. 

They  carried  him  outside  and  laid  him  on  the  grass  in 
front  of  the  court  house.  The  doctor  used  every  restor- 
ative he  had  with  him.  Men  hurried  to  the  drug  store. 
They  tried  ever3^hing,  but  all  to  no  avail.  Ike  Fenner  the 
tailor  was  dead!  He  had  gone  to  stand  before  a 
higher  court ! 

When  it  was  all  over,  the  finger  prints  and  the  red 
tape,  and  the  case  had  been  dismissed,  Mark  came  to  Billy 
where  he  was  lying  in  the  big  car  waiting,  with  his  eyes 
closed  to  keep  back  weak  tears  that  would  slip  out  now  and 
then.  He  knelt  beside  the  boy  and  touched  his  hand,  the 
hand  that  looked  so  thin  and  weak  and  so  little  like  Billy's : 

"  Kid,"  he  said  gently,  "  Kid,  you've  been  a  wonder ! 
It  was  really  you  that  saved  me.  Buddy !    My  Buddy!  '* 

Billy's  tears  welled  over  at  the  tone,  the  words,  the 


^92  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

proud  intimate  name,  but  he  shook  his  head  slowly,  sadly. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  No,  it  wasn't  me.  I  tried,  but  I 
wasn't  fit !  It  had  to  be  Him.  1  didn't  understand !  They 
wouldn't  believe  me.    But  He  came  as  soon  as  I  ast !  " 

Mark  looked  at  the  doctor. 

"  Is  he  wandering  a  little  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  low  tone : 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder.  He's  been  through  enough  to 
make  anyone  wander.    Here,  son,  take  this." 

Billy  smiled  and  obediently  accepted  his  medicine. 
Mark  held  his  hand  all  the  way  home.  He  knew  that  Mark 
didn't  understand  but  he  was  too  tired  to  tell  him  now. 
Sometime  he  would  explain.  Or  perhaps  Miss  Lynn  would 
explain  it  for  him.  He  was  going  home,  home  to  Saxy 
and  Sabbath  Valley  and  the  bells,  and  Mark  was  free  1  He 
liadn't  saved  him,  but  Mark  was  free ! 

It  was  like  a  royal  passage  through  the  village  as  they 
came  into  Sabbath  Valley,  for  everybody  came  out  to  wave 
at  Mark  and  Billy.  Even  Mrs.  Harricutt  watched  grimly 
from  behind  her  Holland  shades.  But  Billy  was  too  weak 
to  notice  much,  except,  to  sense  it  distantly,  and  Mark 
would  only  lift  his  hat  and  bow,  gravely,  quietly  as  if  it 
didn't  matter,  just  as  he  used  to  do  when  they  carried  him 
round  on  their  shoulders  after  a  football  game,  and  he 
tried  to  get  down  and  hide.  Why  did  Mark  still  have  that 
sad  look  in  his  eyes  ?  Billy  was  too  tired  to  think  it  out. 
He  was  glad  when  they  reached  Aunt  Saxon's  door  and 
Mark  picked  him  up  as  he  used  to  do  when  he  was  just  a 
little  kid,  and  carried  him  up  to  his  room.  Carried  him 
up  and  undressed  him,  while  Saxy  heard  the  story  from 
the  doctor's  lips,  and  laughed  and  cried  and  laughed  again. 
The  nervy  little  kid !  He  would  always  be  a  ''  Httle  kid  " 
to  Saxy,  no  matter  what  he  did. 

He  turned  over  in  his  own  bed,  his  bed,  and  smelt  the 
sweet  breath  of  the  honeysuckle  coming  in  at  the  window, 
heard  the  thrushes  singing  their  evening  song  up  the 
street.     The  sea  had  been  great,  but  Oh,  you  Sabbath 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  29S 

Valley !  Out  there  was  the  water  spout,  and  some  day  he 
would  be  strong  enough  to  shin  down  it,  and  up  it  again. 
He  would  play  football  this  Fall,  and  run  Mark's  cart 
Mark,  grave,  gentle,  quiet,  sitting  beside  him  till  he  got 
asleep,  and  his  mother  not  knowing,  down  the  street,  and 
Miss  Lynn — ! 

''Mark — ^you'll  tell  Miss  Marilyn  about  it  all?''  He 
opened  his  eyes  to  murmur  lazily,  and  Mark  promised 
still  gravely. 

He  shut  his  eyes  and  drifted  away.  What  was  that 
the  Chief  had  told  him  down  at  Economy  in  the  car? 
Something  about  three  strange  detectives  stepping  off  the 
train  one  day  and  nabbing  Pat  ?  And  Pat  was  up  at  Sing 
Sing  finishing  his  term  after  A.W.O.L.  Was  that  straight 
or  only  a  dream?  And  anyhow  he  didn't  care.  He  was 
home  again.  Home — and  forgiven! 

Night  settled  sweetly  down  upon  Sabbath  Valley,  hid^ 
ing  the  brilliant  autumn  tinting  of  the  street.  Lynn  had 
made  a  maple  nut  cake  and  set  the  table  for  two  before 
she  left  the  Carters,  for  her  mother  had  slipped  out  of  the 
court  room  and  telephoned  her,  and  a  fire  was  blazing  in 
the  little  parlor  with  the  lace  curtains  and  asters  in  every 
vase  all  gala  for  the  returning  son.  The  mother  and  son 
sat  long  before  the  fire,  talking,  pleasant  converse,  about 
the  time  when  Mark  would  send  for  her  to  come  and  live 
with  him,  but  not  a  word  was  said  about  the  day.  He  saw 
that  his  friends  had  helped  to  save  his  mother  this  one 
great  sorrow  that  she  could  not  have  borne,  and  he 
was  grateful. 

Marilyn,  up  at  the  parsonage,  with  a  great  thankful- 
ness upon  her,  went  about  with  smiling  face.  The  burden 
seemed  to  have  lifted  and  she  was  glad. 

But  that  night  at  midnight  there  came  the  doctor  from 
Economy  driving  hard  and  stopping  at  the  parsonage. 
Cherry  Fenner  was  dying  and  wanted  to  see  Miss  Marilyn. 
Would  she  come? 


XXVI 

Cherry's  little  bedroom  under  the  roof  was  bright 
with  the  confusion  of  cheap  finery  scattered  everywhere 
and  swept  aside  at  the  sudden  entrance  of  the  death  angel. 
A  neighbor  had  done  her  best  to  push  away  the  crude 
implements  of  complexion  that  were  littering  the  cheap  oak 
bureau  top,  and  the  doctor's  case  and  bottles  and  glasses 
crowded  out  the  giddy  little  accessories  of  beauty  that 
Cherry  had  collected.  Two  chairs  piled  high  with  draggled 
finery,  soiled  work  aprons  and  dresses  made  a  forlorn  and 
miscellaneous  disorder  in  one  corner,  and  the  closet  door 
sagged  open  with  visions  of  more  clothing  hung  many  deep 
upon  the  few  hooks. 

Mrs.  Fenner  stood  at  the  head  of  the  bed  wringing  her 
hands  and  moaning  uncontrolledly,  and  Cherry,  little 
Cherry,  lay  whitely  against  the  pillow,  the  color  all  gone 
from  her  ghastly  pretty  little  face,  that  had  lately  hid  its 
ravished  health  and  beauty  behind  a  camouflage  of  paint. 
There  were  deep  dark  circles  under  the  limpid  eyes  that 
now  were  full  of  mortal  pain,  and  pitiful  lines  around  the 
cherry  mouth  that  had  been  wont  to  laugh  so  saucily. 

The  doctor  stood  by  the  window, with  the  attitude  of 
grave  waiting.  The  helpful  neighbor  lingered  in  the  door- 
way, holding  her  elbows  and  taking  minute  note  of 
Marilyn's  dress.  This  might  be  a  sad  time,  but  one  had 
to  live  afterward,  and  it  wasn't  every  day  you  got  to  see  a 
simple  little  frock  with  an  air  like  the  one  the  minister's 
daughter  wore.  She  studied  it  from  neck  to  hem  and 
couldn't  see  what  in  the  world  there  was  about  it  anyway 
to  make  her  look  so  dressed  up.  Not  a  scratch  of  trim- 
ming, not  even  a  collar,  and  yet  she  could  look  like  that ! 

294 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  295 

Mercy !  Was  that  what  education  and  going  to  college  did 
for  folks? 

The  light  of  a  single  unshaded  electric  bulb  shone 
startlingly  down  to  the  bed,  making  plain  the  shadow  of 
death  even  to  an  inexperienced  eye. 

Marilyn  knelt  beside  the  bed  and  took  Cherry's  cold 
little  hand  in  her  own  warm  one.  The  waxen  eyelids  flut- 
tered open,  and  a  dart  of  something  between  fright  and 
pain  went  over  her  weird  little  face. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  Cherry  ?  "  Marilyn's  voice 
was  tender,  pitiful. 

"  It's  too  late,"  whispered  the  girl  in  a  fierce  little 
whisper,  "  Send  'em  out —  I — wantta —  tell — ^you — 
someth — !  "  The  voice  trailed  away  weakly.  The  doctor 
stepped  over  and  gave  her  a  spoonful  of  something, 
motioned  her  mother  and  the  neighbor  away,  tiptoeing  out 
himself  and  closing  the  door.  The  mother  was  sobbing 
wildly.  The  doctor's  voice  could  be  heard  quieting 
her  coldly : 

The  girl  on  the  bed  frowned  and  gathered  effort 
to  speak : 

"  Mark  Carter — didn't  mean  no  harm — goin' — ^with 
me — !"  she  broke  out,  her  breath  coming  in  gasps,  "He  was 
tryin' — to  stop  me — goin' — with — Dolph — .' ''  The  eyes 
closed  wearily.  The  lips  were  white  as  chalk.  She  seemed 
to  have  stopped  breathing! 

"  It's  all  right — Cherry — "  Marilyn  breathed  softly, 
"  It's  all  right — I  understand !  Don't  think  any  more 
about  it ! " 

The  eyes  opened  fiercely  again,  a  faint  determination 
shadowed  round  the  little  mouth : 

"You  gotta  know — !"  she  broke  forth  again  with 
effort.  "  He  was  good  to  me — when  I  was  a  little  kid,  and 
when  he  found  I  was  in  trouble — "  the  breath  came  piti- 
fully in  gasps — **he —  offered —  to — marry  me!" 


296  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

Marilyn's  fingers  trembled  but  she  held  the  little  cold 
hand  warmly  and  tried  to  keep  back  the  tears  that  trembled 
in  her  eyes. 

*'  He —  didn't — want  to — /  He — just  — done  it  to  be 
kind!  But  I — couldn't — see — it — !  That's — what — we — 
argued — / ''  Her  voice  grew  fainter  again.  Marilyn  with 
gentle  controlled  voice  pressed  the  little  cold  hand  again : 

"  Never  mind,  Cherry  dear — it's  all  right !  " 

Cherry's  eyes  opened  with  renewed  effort,  anxiously: 

"You  won't — blame — Mark — ?  He  never — did — 
nothin' — wrong — !  "    He's  — your — friend !  " 

"No,  Cherry!    It's  all  right !  " 

The  girl  seemed  to  have  lost  consciousness  again,  and 
Marilyn  wondered  if  she  ought  not  to  call  the  doctor,  but 
suddenly  Cherry  screamed  out: 

"  There  he  is  again !  He's  come  for  me!  Oh —  I'm — 
a — gon'  ta —  die!    An'  I'm  afrrrr-aid!" 

Cherry  clutched  at  Marilyn's  arm,  and  looked  up  with 
far  off  gaze  in  which  terror  seemed  f ro'^en. 

The  minister's  daughter  leaned  farther  over  and  gath- 
ered the  fragile  form  of  the  sick  girl  in  her  arms  tenderly, 
speaking  in  a  soothing  voice : 

"  Listen  Cherry.  Don't  be  afraid.  Jesus  is  here.  He'll 
go  with  you !  " 

"  But  I'm  afraid  of  Jesus ! "  the  sharp  httle  voice 
pierced  out  with  a  shudder,  "  I  haven't  been — good! '' 

"  Then  tell  Him  you  are  sorry.  You  are  sorry, 
aren't  you?  " 

"  Oh,  yes!  "  the  weak  voice  moaned.  "  I — never — 
meant — no — harm!  I  only — wanted — a  little — ^good 
time— !" 

The  eyes  had  closed  again  and  she  was  almost  gone. 
The  doctor  had  come  in  and  he  now  gave  her  another 
spoonful  of  medicine.    Marilyn  knew  the  time  was  short. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  297 

"  Listen,  Cherry,  say  these  words  after  me !  '*  Cherry's 
eyes  opened  again  and  fastened  on  her  face,  eagerly : 

"  Jesus,  I'm  sorry — !  " 

"  Jesus — I'm — sor-ry — !  "  repeated  the  weak  voice 
in  almost  a  whisper. 

"  Please  forgive  me,"  said  Marilyn  slowly,  distinctly. 

"  Please  —  for  —  give — !  "  the  slow  voice  repeated. 

"  And  save  me." 

" —  save — !"  the  voice  was  scarcely  audible. 

The  doctor  came  and  stood  close  by  the  bed,  looking 
down  keenly,  but  Cherry  roused  once  more  and  looked  at 
them,  her  sharp  little  voice  stabbing  out  into  the 
silence  piercingly, 

''  Is  that— alir  " 

"  That  is  all,"  said  Marilyn  with  a  ring  in  her  voice, 
"Jesus  died  to  take  care  of  all  the  rest !  You  can  just  rest 
on  Him!" 

'''Oh-hl"  The  agony  went  out  of  the  pinched  little 
face,  a  half  smile  dawned  and  she  sank  into  rest. 

As  Marilyn  went  home  in  the  dawn  with  the  morning 
star  beginning  to  pale,  and  the  birds  at  their  early  worship, 
something  in  her  own  heart  was  singing  too.  Above  the 
feeling  of  awe  over  standing  at  the  brink  of  the  river  and 
seeing  a  little  soul  go  wavering  out,  above  even  the  wonder 
that  she  had  been  called  to  point  the  way,  there  sang  in  her 
soul  a  song  of  jubilation  that  Mark  was  exonerated  from 
shame  and  disgrace.  Whatever  others  thought,  whatever 
she  personally  would  always  have  believed,  it  still  was 
great  that  God  had  given  her  this  to  make  her  know  that 
her  inner  vision  about  it  had  been  right.  Perhaps,  some- 
time, in  the  days  that  were  to  come,  Mark  would  tell  her 
about  it,  but  there  was  time  enough  for  that.  Mark  would 
perhaps  come  to  see  her  this  morning.  She  somehow  felt 
sure  that  at  least  he  would  come  to  say  he  was  glad  she 
had  stayed  with  his  mother.    It  was  like  Mark  to  do  that. 


298  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

He  never  let  any  little  thing  that  was  done  for  him  or  his 
pass  unnoticed. 

But  the  morning  passed  and  Mark  did  not  come.  The 
only  place  that  Mark  went  was  to  see  Billy. 

"  Billy,  old  man,"  he  said,  sitting  down  by  the  edge  of 
the  bed  where  Billy  was  drowsing  the  early  morning  away, 
just  feehng  the  bed,  and  sensing  Saxy  down  there  making 
chicken  broth,  and  knowing  that  the  young  robins  in  the 
apple  tree  under  the  window  were  grown  up  and  flown 
away.  "  Billy,  I  can't  keep  my  promise  to  you  after  all. 
I've  got  to  go  away.  Sorry,  kid,  but  she'll  come  to  see  you 
and  I  want  you  to  tell  her  for  me  all  about  it.  I'm  not  for- 
getting it.  Kid,  either,  and  you'll  know,  all  the  rest  of  my 
life,  yoii  and  I  are  buddies!    Savvy,  Kid?  " 

Billy  looked  at  Mark  with  big  understanding  eyes. 
There  was  sadness  and  hunger  and  great  self  control  in 
that  still  white  face  that  he  worshipped  so  devotedly.  All 
was  not  well  with  his  hero  yet.  It  came  to  him  vaguely 
that  perhaps  Mark  too  had  even  yet  something  to  learn, 
the  kind  of  thing  that  was  only  learned  by  going  through 
fire.  He  struggled  for  words  to  express  himself,  but  all' 
he  could  find  were : 

"I  say,  Mark,  why'n't'tya  get  it  ofFn  yer  chest? 
It's  great! " 

Perhaps  there  wouldn't  have  been  another  human  i 
Sabbath  Valley,  except  perhaps  it  might  have  been  Maril 
who  would  have  understood  that  by  this  low  growled  su 
gestion  Billy  was  offering  confession  of  sin  as  a  remedy  fo! 
his  friend's  ailment  of  soul,  but  Mark  looked  at  him  keenly, 
almost  tenderly  for  a  long  minute,  and  shook  his  hea 
his  face  taking  on  a  grayer,  more  hopeless  look  as  he  said 

"  I  can't.  Kid.    It's  too  late! " 

Billy  closed  his  eyes  for  a  moment.  He  felt  it  wasn 
quite  square  to  see  into  his  friend's  soul  that  way  whe 
he  was  off  his  guard,  but  he  understood.    He  had  passe 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

that  way  himself.  It  came  to  him  that  nothing  he  could 
say  would  make  any  difference.  He  would  have  liked  to 
tell  of  his  own  experience  in  the  court  room  and  how  he 
had  suddenly  known  that  all  his  efforts  to  right  his  wrong 
had  been  failures,  that  there  was  only  One  who  could  do 
it,  but  there  were  no  words  in  a  boy's  vocabulary  to  say 
a  thing  like  that.  It  sounded  unreal.  It  had  to  be  felt,  and 
he  found  his  heart  kept  saying  over  and  over  as  he  lay 
there  waiting  with  closed  eyes  for  Mark  to  speak :  "  Oh, 
God!  Whyn'tchoo  show  him  Yerself?  Why'n'tchoo 
show  him  Yerself  ?  "  He  wondered  if  Miss  Lynn  couldn't 
have  shown  Mark  if  he  had  only  gone  and  talked  it  over 
with  her.  But  Mark  said  it  was  too  late,  "  Well, 
Why'n'tchoo  show  him  Yerself,  then?  Why'n'tchoo  show 
him  Yerself,  God, — please!^' 

Mark  got  up  with  a  long  sigh : 

"  Well,  s'long.  Kid,  till  I  see  you  again.  And  I  won't 
forget  Kid,  you  know  I  won't  forget!  And  Kid,  I'm 
leaving  my  gun  with  you.  I  know  you'll  take  good  care 
of  it  and  not  let  it  do  any  damage.  You  might  need  it  you 
know  to  take  care  of  your  Aunt,  or —  or —  Miss 
Severn — or !  " 

"Sure ! "  said  Billy  with  shining  eyes  clasping  the 
weapon  that  had  been  Mark's  proud  possession  for  several 
years.  "  Aw  Gee !  Ya  hadn't  oughtta  give  me  this !  You 
might  need  it  yourself." 

"  No,  Kid,  I'd  rather  feel  that  you  have  it.  I  want  to 
leave  someone  here  to  kind  of  take  my  place — watching — 
you  know.    There'll  be  times — !  " 

**  Sure !  "  said  Billy,  a  kind  of  glory  overspreading 
his  thin  eager  face.    *'  Aw  Gee!  Mark !  " 

And  long  after  Mark  had  gone,  and  the  sound  of  his 
purring  engine  had  died  away  in  the  distance,  Billy  lay 
back  with  the  weapon  clasped  to  his  heart,  and  a  weird 
kind  of  rhythm  repeating  itself  over  and  over  somewhere 


300  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

in  his  spirit:  "  Why'n'tchoo  show  him  Yerself,  God? 
Why'n'tchoo  show  him  Yerself  ?  You  will !  I'll  bet  You 
will!  yet ! '' 

And  was  that  anything  like  the  prayer  of  faith  trans- 
lated into  theological  language  ? 

Aunt  Saxon  went  up  tiptoe  with  the  broth  and  thought 
he  was  asleep  and  tiptoed  down  again  to  keep  it  warm 
awhile.  But  Billy  lay  there  and  felt  like  Elisha  after  the 
mantle  of  the  prophet  Elijah  had  fallen  upon  him.  It  gave 
him  a  grand  solemn  feeling,  God  and  he  were  somehow 
taking  Mark's  place  till  Mark  got  ready  to  come  back  and 
do  it  himself.  He  was  to  take  care  of  Sabbath  Valley  as 
far  as  in  him  lay,  but  more  particularly  of  Miss 
Marilyn  Severn. 

And  then  suddenly,  without  warning.  Miss  Marilyn 
herself  went  away,  to  New  York  she  said,  for  a  few  weeks, 
she  wasn't  sure  just  how  long.  But  there  was  something 
sad  in  her  voice  as  she  said  it,  and  something  white  about 
the  look  she  wore  that  made  him  sure  she  was  not  going 
to  the  part  of  New  York  where  Mark  Carter  lived. 

Billy  accepted  it  with  a  sigh.  Things  were  getting 
pretty  dry  around  Sabbath  Valley  for  him.  He  didn't 
seem  to  get  his  pep  back  as  fast  as  he  had  expected.  For 
one  thing  he  worried  a  good  deal,  and  for  another  the 
doctor  wouldn't  let  him  play  baseball  nor  ride  a  bicycle  yet 
for  quite  a  while.  He  had  to  go  around  and  act  just  like  a 
"gurrull!"  Aw  Gee!  Sometimes  he  was  even  glad  to 
have  Mary  Little  come  across  the  street  with  her  picture 
puzzles  and  stay  with  him  awhile.  She  was  real  good  com- 
pany. He  hadn't  ever  dreamed  before  that  girls  could  be 
as  interesting.  Of  course,  Miss  Marilyn  had  to  be  a  girl 
once,  but  then  she  was  Miss  Marilyn.    That  was  different. 

Then  too,  Billy  hadn't  quite  forgotten  that  first  morn- 
ing that  Saxy  got  her  arms  around  him  and  cried  over  him 
glad  tears,  bright  sweet  tears  that  wet  his  face  and  made 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  301 

him  feel  like  crying  happy  tears  too.  And  the  sudden  sur- 
prising desire  he  felt  to  hug  her  with  his  well  arm,  and  how 
she  fell  over  on  the  bed  and  got  to  laughing  because  he 
pulled  her  hair  down  in  his  awkwardness,  and  pulled  her 
collar  crooked.  Aw  Gee!  She  was  just  Aunt  Saxy  and 
he  had  been  rotten  to  her  a  lot  of  times.  But  now  it  was 
different.  Somehow  Saxy  and  he  were  more  pals,  or  was 
it  that  he  was  the  man  now  taking  care  of  Saxy  and  not  the 
little  boy  being  taken  care  of  himself  ?  Somehow  during 
those  weeks  he  had  been  gone  Saxy  had  cried  out  the  pink 
tears,  and  was  growing  smiles,  and  home  was  "  kinda 
nice  "  after  all.  But  he  missed  the  bells.  And  nights 
before  he  got  into  bed  he  got  to  kneeling  down  regularly, 
and  saying  softly  inside  his  heart :  "  Aw  Gee,  God,  please 
why'n'tcha  make  Mark  understand,  an'  why'n'tcha  bring 
'em  both  home?  " 


XXVII 

Marilyn  had  not  been  in  New  York  but  a  week  before 
she  met  Opal.  She  was  waiting  to  cross  Fifth  Avenue, 
and  someone  leaned  out  of  a  big  Hmousine  that  paused  for 
the  congestion  in  traffic  and  cried : 

"  Why,  if  that  isn't  Miss  Severn  from  Sabbath  Valley. 
Get  in  please,  I  want  to  see  you." 

And  Lynn,  much  against  her  will,  was  persuaded  to 
get  in,  more  because  she  was  holding  up  traffic  than  be- 
cause the  woman  in  the  limousine  insisted : 

"I'll  take  you  where  you  want  to  go,"  she  said  in 
answer  to  Lynn's  protests,  and  they  rolled  away  up  the 
great  avenue  with  the  moving  throng. 

"  I'm  dying  to  know  what  it  is  you're  making  Laurie 
Shafton  do,"  said  Opal  eagerly,  "  I  never  saw  him  so  much 
interested  in  anything  in  my  life.  Or  is  it  you  he's  inter- 
ested in.  Why,  he  can*t  talk  of  anything  else,  and  he's 
almost  stopped  going  to  the  Club  or  any  of  the  house 
parties.  Everybody  thinks  he's  perfectly  crazy.  He  won't 
drink  any  more  either.  He's  made  himself  quite  notorious. 
I  believe  I  heard  some  one  say  the  other  day  they  hadn't 
even  seen  him  smoking  for  a  whole  week.  You  certainly 
are  a  wonder." 

'*  You're  quite  mistaken,"  said  Lynn,  much  amused, 
"  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  Mr.  Shaf ton's  present  interest, 
except  as  I  happened  to  be  the  one  to  introduce  him  to  it.  I 
haven't  seen  him  but  twice  since  I  came  to  New  York,  and 
then  only  to  take  him  around  among  my  babies  at  the  Set- 
tlement and  once  over  to  the  Orphans'  Home,  where  I've 
been  helping  out  while  an  old  friend  of  mine  with  whom  I 
>vorked  in  France  is  away  with  her  sick  sister." 

"  For  mercy's  sake !    You  don't  mean  that  Laurie  con- 

802 


rHE  CITY  OF  FIRE  303 

sented  to  go  among  the  poor?  I  heard  he*d  given  a  lot  of 
money  to  fix  up  some  buildings,  but  then  all  the  best  men 
are  doing  things  like  that  now.  It's  quite  the  fad.  But 
to  go  himself  and  see  the  wretched  little  things,  Ugh!  I 
don't  see  how  he  could.  He  must  be  quite  crazy  about  you 
I'm  sure  if  he  did  all  that  for  you." 

"  Oh,  he  seemed  to  want  to  see  them,"  said  Lynn 
Hghtly,  "  and  he  suggested  many  of  the  improvements  that 
he  is  making  himself.  They  tell  me  he  has  proved  a  great 
helper,  he  is  on  hand  at  all  hours  superintending  the  build- 
ing himself,  and  everybody  is  delighted  with  him — !  " 

*'  Mmmm !  "  commented  Opal  looking  at  Marilyn 
through  the  fringes  of  her  eyes.  "  You  really  are  a  wonder. 
And  now  that  you  are  in  New  York  Fm  going  to  introduce 
you  to  our  crowd.  When  can  you  come  ?  Let's  see.  To- 
morrow is  Sunday.  Will  you  spend  the  evening  with  me 
to-morrow?  I'll  certainly  show  you  a  good  time.  We're 
going  to  motor  to — " 

But  Lynn  was  shaking  her  head  decidedly : 

"  I  couldn't  possibly  spare  a  minute,  thank  you.  I'm 
only  out  on  an  errand  now.  I'm  needed  every  instant  at 
the  Home!" 

"  For  mercy  sake !  Hire  son^eone  to  take  your  place 
then.  I  want  you.  You'll  be  quite  a  sensation  I  assure 
you.  Don't  worry  about  clothes,  if  you  haven't  anything 
along.  You  can  wear  one  of  my  evening  dresses.  We're 
almost  of  a  size." 

"  No,"  said  L3nin  smiling,  "  It  simply  isn't  possible. 
And  anyway,  don't  you  remember  Sabbath  Valley?  I 
don't  go  out  to  play  Sunday  nights  you  know." 

"  Oh,  but  this  is  New  York !  You  can't  bring  Sabbath 
Valley  notions  into  New  York." 

Lynn  smiled  again: 

"  You  can  if  they  are  a  part  of  you,"  she  said,  "  Come 
in  and  see  how  nicely  I'm  fixed." 


804 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  I 


Opal  looked  up  at  the  beautiful  building  before  which 
they  were  stopping. 

"Why,  where  is  this?"  she  asked  astonished,  "I 
thought  you  were  down  in  the  slums  somewhere." 

"This  is  a  Home  for  little  orphan  children  kept  up  by 
the  Salvation  Army.    Come  in  a  minute  and  see  it." 

Following  a  whim  of  curiosity  Opal  came  in,  and  was 
led  down  a  long  hall  to  a  great  room  where  were  a  hundred 
tiny  children  sitting  on  little  chairs  in  a  big  circle  playing 
kindergarten  games.  The  children  were  dressed  in  neat 
pretty  frocks  such  as  any  beloved  children  would  wear,  with 
bright  hair  ribbons  and  neckties,  and  each  with  an  individ- 
uality of  its  own.  The  room  was  sunny  and  bright,  with 
a  great  playhouse  at  one  end,  with  real  windows  and  furni- 
ture in  it  and  all  sorts  of  toboggan  slides  and  swings  and 
kiddy  cars  and  everything  to  delight  the  soul  of  a  child. 
On  a  wide  space  between  two  windows  painted  on  the 
plaster  in  soft  wonderful  coloring  blended  into  the  gray 
tint  of  the  wall,  there  glowed  a, life  size  painting  of  the 
Christ  surrounded  by  little  children,  climbing  upon  His 
knees  and  listening  to  Him  as  He  smiled  and  talked 
to  them. 

Opal  paused  in  the  doorway  and  looked  at  the  picture 
first,  shyly,  shamedly,  as  though  it  were  no  place  for  her 
to  enter,  then  curiously  at  the  little  children,  with  a  kind  of 
wistful  yearning,  as  if  here  were  something  she  had  missed 
of  her  own  fault.  Lynn  called  out  a  charming  baby  and 
made  her  shake  hands  and  bow  and  say  a  few  listing 
smiling  words.  Opal  turned  to  Lynn  with  a  strangely 
subdued  look  and  spoke  in  a  moved  tone : 

"  I  guess  you're  right,"  she  said,  "  You  wouldn't  fit  at 
my  company.  You're  different!  But  some  day  I'm 
coming  after  you  and  bring  you  home  all  by  yourself  for  a 
little  while.  I  want  to  find  out  what  it  is  you  have  that 
I  need." 


THE  CITY  OF  FIEE  305 

Then  she  turned  with  swift  steps  and  went  down  the 
hall  and  out  the  door  to  her  waiting  limousine,  and  Lynn 
smiled  wonderingly  as  she  saw  her  whirled  away  into  the 
world  again. 

Lynn  had  not  seen  Mark. 

Laurie  Shaft  on  had  called  upon  her  many  times  since 
those  two  trips  they  had  taken  around  the  settlements  and 
looking  over  his  condemned  property,  but  she  had  been 
busy,  or  out  somewhere  on  her  errands  of  mercy,  so  that 
Laurie  had  got  very  little  satisfaction  for  his  trouble. 

But  Mark  had  seen  Lynn  once,  just  once,  and  that  the 
first  time  she  had  gone  with  Laurie  Shaft  on,  as  they  were 
getting  out  of  his  car  in  front  of  one  of  his  buildings. 
Mark  had  slipped  into  a  doorway  out  of  sight  and  watched 
them,  and  after  they  passed  into  the  building  had  gone  on, 
his  face  whiter  and  sadder  than  before.     That  w^as  all. 

Marilyn  was  to  spend  only  a  month  in  New  York,  as 
at  first  planned,  but  the  month  lengthened  into  six  weeks 
before  the  friend  whose  place  she  was  taking  was  able  to 
return,  and  two  days  before  Marilyn  was  expecting  to  start 
home  there  came  a  telephone  message  from  her  mother : 

"  Lynn,  dear,  Mrs.  Carter  is  very  low,  dying,  we  think, 
and  we  must  find  Mark  at  once !  There  is  not  a  minute  to 
lose  if  he  wants  to  see  her  alive.  It  is  a  serious  condition 
brought  on  by  excitement.  Mrs.  Harricutt  went  there  to 
call  yesterday  while  everybody  else  was  at  Ladies'  Aid. 
And  Lynn,  she  told  her  about  Mark!  Now,  Lynn,  can 
you  get  somebody  to  go  with  you  and  find  Mark  right 
away?  Get  him  to  come  home  at  once  ?  Here  is  the  last  ad- 
dress he  gave,  but  they  have  no  telephone  and  we  dare  not 
wait  for  a  telegram.    See  what  you  can  do  quickly !  '* 

It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  this  message 
came.  Lynn  put  on  a  uniform  of  dark  blue  serge  and  a 
poke  bonnet  that  was  at  her  disposal  whenever  she  had 
need  of  protection,  and  hurried  out. 

20 


306  THE  CITY  OF  FIEE 

She  found  the  address  after  some  trouble,  but  was  told 
that  the  young  gentleman  was  out.  No  one  seemed  to 
know  when  he  would  return. 

Two  or  three  other  lodgers  gathered  curiously,  one 
suggesting  a  restaurant  where  he  might  be  found,  another 
a  club  where  he  sometimes  went  and  a  third  laughed  and 
called  out  from  half  way  up  the  stairs : 

"  You'll  find  him  at  the  cabaret  around  the  corner  by 
ten  o'clock  to-night  if  you  don't  find  him  sooner.  He's 
always  there  when  he's  in  town." 

Sick  at  heart  Lynn  went  on  her  way,  trying  carefully 
each  place  that  had  been  suggested  but  finding  no  trace  of 
him.  She  met  with  only  deference  for  her  uniform  wher- 
ever she  went,  and  without  the  slightest  fear  she  travelled 
through  streets  at  night  that  she  would  scarcely  have  liked 
to  pass  alone  in  the  daytime  in  her  ordinary  garb.  But  all 
the  time  her  heart  was  praying  that  she  might  find  Mark 
before  it  was  too  late.  She  tried  every  little  clue  that  was 
given  her,  hoping  against  hope  that  she  would  not  have 
to  search  for  her  old  friend  in  a  cabaret  such  as  she  knew 
that  place  around  the  corner  must  be.  But  it  was  almost 
ten  o'clock  and  she  had  not  found  Mark.  She  went  back 
to  the  first  address  once  more,  but  he  had  not  come,  and 
so  she  finally  turned  her  steps  toward  the  cabaret. 

Sadly,  with  her  heart  beating  wildly,  hoping,  yet  fear- 
ing to  find  him,  she  paused  just  inside  the  doors  and  looke< 
around,  trying  to  get  used  to  the  glare  and  blare,  the] 
jazz  and  the  smoke,  and  the  strange  lax  garb,  and  to  dif- 
ferentiate the  individuals  from  the  crowd. 

Food  and  drink,  smoke  and  song,  wine  and  dance,  fleshj 
and  odd  perfumes!     Her  soul  sank  within  her,  and  sh( 
turned  bewildered  to  a  servitor  at  the  door. 

"  I  wonder,  is  there  any  way  to  find  a  special  persoi 
here?  I  have  a  very  important  message." 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  307 

The  man  bent  his  head  deferentially  as  though  to 
one  from  another  world,  "  Who  did  you  want,  Miss  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Mark  Carter,''  said  Marilyn,  feeling  the  color 
rise  in  her  cheeks  at  letting  even  this  waiter  see  that  she 
expected  to  find  Mark  Carter  here. 

The  man  looked  up  puzzled.  He  was  rather  new  at  the 
place.    He  summoned  another  passing  one  of  his  kind : 

"Carter,  Carter?''  the  man  said  thoughtfully,  "Oh, 
yes,  he's  the  guy  that  never  drinks !  He's  over  there  at 
the  table  in  the  far  corner  with  the  little  dancer  lady — " 
The  waiter  pointed  and  Lynn  looked.  "  Would  you  like 
me  to  call  him.  Miss  ?  "  Lynn  reflected  quickly.  Perhaps 
he  might  try  to  evade  her.     She  must  run  no  risks. 

"  Thank  you,  I  will  go  to  him,"  she  said,  and  straight 
through  the  maze  of  candle  lighted  tables,  and  whirling 
dancers,  in  her  quiet  holy  garb,  she  threaded  her  way 
hastily,  as  one  might  have  walked  over  quicksands,  with 
her  eye  fixed  upon  Mark. 

She  came  and  stood  beside  him  before  he  looked  up  and 
saw  her,  and  then  he  lifted  his  eyes  from  the  face  of  the 
girl  with  whom  he  was  talking,  and  rose  suddenly  to  his 
feet,  his  face  gone  white  as  death,  his  eyes  dark  with  dis- 
approval and  humiliation. 

"  Marilyn !  "  His  voice  was  shaking.  He  knew  her 
instantly  in  spite  of  poke  bonnet  and  uniform.  She  was 
the  one  thought  present  with  him  all  the  while,  perhaps  for 
years  wherever  he  had  been.  But  he  did  not  look  glad  to 
see  her.  Instead  it  was  as  if  his  soul  shrank  shamedly  from 
her  clear  eyes  as  she  looked  at  him : 

Marilyn  had  not  known  what  she  was  going  to  say  to 
him  when  she  found  him.    She  did  not  stop  to  think  now. 

"  Mark,  your  mother  wants  you.  She  is  dying !  You 
must  come  quick  or  she  will  be  gone !  " 

Afterwards  she  repeated  over  the  words  to  herself  again 


308  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

and  again  as  one  might  do  penance,  blaming  herself  that  she 
had  not  softened  it,  made  it  more  easy  for  him  to  bear. 
Yet  at  the  time  it  seemed  the  only  thing  there  was  to  say, 
at  such  a  time,  in  such  a  place.  But  at  the  stricken  look 
upon  his  face  her  heart  grew  tender.  *'  Come,'*  she  said 
compassionately,  "  We  will  go !  " 

They  went  out  into  the  night  and  it  was  as  if  they  had 
suddenly  changed  places,  as  if  she  were  the  protector  and 
he  the  led.  She  guided  him  the  quickest  way.  There  was 
only  a  chance  that  they  might  catch  the  midnight  train, 
but  there  was  that  chance.  Into  the  subway  she  dived, 
he  following,  and  breathless,  they  brought  up  at  the  Penn- 
sylvania station  at  their  train  gate  as  it  was  being  closed, 
and  hurried  through. 

All  through  that  agonized  night  they  spoke  but  few 
words,  those  two  who  had  been  so  much  to  one  another 
through  long  happy  years. 

"  But  you  are  not  going  too? "  he  spoke  suddenly 
roused  from  his  daze  as  the  train  started. 

"  Yes,  I  am  going  too,  of  course,  Mark,"  she  said. 

He  bowed  his  head  and  almost  groaned : 

"  I  am  not  worthy, — Marilyn  1  '^ 

"  That —  has  nothing  to  do  with  it !  "  said  Marilyn 
sadly,  "  It  never  will  have  anything  to  do  with  it !  It 
never  did  1  " 

Mark  looked  at  her,  with  harrowed  eyes,  and  dropped 
his  gaze.  So  he  sat,  hour  after  hour,  as  the  train  rushed 
along  through  the  night.  And  Marilyn,  with  head  slightly 
bent  and  meek  face,  beneath  the  poke  bonnet  with  its 
crimson  band,  was  praying  as  she  rode.  Praying  in  other 
words  the  prayer  that  Billy  murmured  beside  his  bed 
every  night. 

But  Billy  was  not  lying  in  his  bed  that  night,  sleeping 
the  sleep  of  the  just.  He  was  up  and  on  the  job.  He  was 
sitting  in  the  Carter  kitchen  keeping  up  the  fires,  making  a 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  309 

cup  of  tea  for  the  nurse  and  the  doctor,  running  the  endless 
little  errands,  up  to  the  parsonage  for  another  hot  water 
bag,  down  to  the  drug  store  for  more  aromatic  spirits  of 
ammonia,  fixing  a  newspaper  shade  to  dull  the  light  in 
the  hall,  and  praying,  all  the  time  praying :  "  Oh,  God, 
ain'tcha  gonta  leave  her  stay  till  Mark  gets  here  ?  Ain'tcha 
gonta  send  Mark  quick?  You  know  best  I  'spose,  but 
ain'tcha  gonta? ''  and  then  "  Aw  Gee !  I  wisht  Miss  Lynn 
was  here !  " 

In  the  chill  before  the  dawning  the  two  stepped  down 
from  the  train  at  a  little  flag  station  three  miles  from  Sab- 
bath Valley  on  the  upper  road  that  ran  along  the  Ridge. 
They  had  prevailed  upon  the  conductor  to  let  them  off 
there.  Mark  had  roused  enough  for  that.  And  now 
that  they  were  out  in  the  open  country  he  seemed  to 
come  to  himself.  He  took  care  of  Lynn,  making  her  take 
his  arm,  guiding  her  into  the  smooth  places,  helping  her 
over  rough  places.  He  asked  a  few  questions  too.  How 
did  she  know  of  his  mother's  condition?  How  long  had 
she  been  this  way?  Had  she  any  idea  that  his  mother's 
heart  was  affected?  Did  she  have  a  shock? '' 

Lynn  did  not  tell  all  she  knew.  It  was  hard  enough 
without  that.  He  need  not  know  that  it  was  the  knowledge 
of  his  disgrace  that  had  brought  her  to  the  brink  of  death. 

So,  walking  and  talking  almost  as  in  the  old  days,  they 
passed  into  Sabbath  Valley  and  down  the  street,  and 
Christie  McMertrie  listening  perhaps  for  this  very  thing, 
crept  from  her  bed  in  her  long  flannel  night  gown,  and  big 
ruffled  night  cap,  and  looked  out  the  window  to  see  them  go 
by.  "Bless  them!"  she  breathed  and  crept  back  to  her 
bed  again.  She  had  nursed  all  day,  and  all  the  night  be- 
fore, and  would  have  been  there  too  to-night,  only  Mary 
Rafferty  took  things  in  her  own  hands  and  had  her  go  to 
bed,  herself  taking  charge.  Mrs.  Duncannon  was  there 
too.  There  really  was  no  need  of  her,  but  Christie  could  not 


310  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

sleep,  and  after  they  passed  she  rose  and  dressed  and  slip- 
ped down  the  street  with  a  hot  porridge  that  had  been 
cooking  on  the  stove  all  night,  and  the  makings  of  a  good 
breakfast  in  her  basket  on  her  arm. 

Mark  Carter  reached  home  in  time  to  take  his  mother 
in  his  arms  and  bid  her  good-bye.  That  was  alk  She 
roused  at  his  voice  and  touch,  and  reached  out  her  little 
pretty  hands  toward  him.  He  took  her  in  his  big  strong 
arms  and  held  her,  kissed  her  with  tender  lips  and  she 
drew  a  beautiful  smile  of  perfect  content  and  slipped  away, 
with  the  graying  golden  hair  straying  out  over  Mark's 
sleeve  to  the  pillow  in  a  long  curl,  and  a  quiver  of  her  last 
smile  on  the  pretty  curve  of  her  lips,  as  if  this  was  all  that 
she  had  waited  for,  the  little  pretty  girl  that  had  gone  to 
school  so  long  ago  with  golden  hair  and  a  smile.  Billy, 
standing  awed  in  the  doorway  whither  he  had  come  to  say 
there  was  more  hot  water  ready,  caught  the  vision  of  her 
face,  remembered  those  school  days,  and  felt  a  strange 
constriction  in  his  throat.  Some  day  Saxy  would  have  to 
go  like  that,  and  would  show  the  little  girl  in  her  face  too, 
and  he  maybe  would  have  to  hold  her  so  and  think  of  how 
cross  he  had  been.  Aw  Gee!  Whattaqueer  thing  life  was 
anyhow!  Well,  hadn't  his  prayer  been  answered?  Didn't 
Mark  get  here  in  time  ?  Well,  anyhow  it  was  likely  better 
for  Mrs.  Carter  to  go.  But  it  was  rotten  for  Mark.  Aw 
Gee !  Mark !  Was  this  the  way  he  had  to  learn  it  ?  Aw  Gee ! 
Well,  God  would  have  to  show  him.  He  couldn't  dope  it 
out  anyhow. 

During  the  days  that  followed  Mark  hardly  stirred 
from  the  side  of  the  pretty  little  clay  that  had  been  his 
mother  except  when  they  forced  him  for  a  little  while.  An 
hour  before  the  service  he  knelt  alone  beside  the  casket, 
and  the  door  opened  and  Marilyn  came  softly  in,  closing  it 
behind  her.   She  walked  over  to  Mark  and  laid  her  hand 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  311 

on  his  hand  that  rested  over  his  mother's  among  the 
flowers,  and  she  knelt  beside  him  and  spoke  softly : 
"  Oh,  God,  help  Mark  to  find  the  light!  ^' 
Then  the  soul  of  Mark  Carter  was  shaken  to  the  depths 
and  suddenly  his  self  control  which  had  been  so  great  was 
broken.  His  strong  shoulders  began  to  shake  with  sobs, 
silent,  hard  sobs  of  a  man  who  knows  he  has  sinned,  and 
tears,  scalding  tears  from  the  depths  of  his  self-con- 
tained nature. 

Marilyn  reached  her  arm  out  across  his  shoulders  as  a 
mother  would  try  to  protect  a  child,  and  lifted  her  face 
against  his,  wet  with  tears  and  kissed  him  on  his  fore- 
head.   Then  she  left  him  and  went  quietly  out. 

4:  H«  H:  H:  ^  ^  He  4: 

**  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Harricutt  with  satisfaction  as  she 
walked  home  after  the  funeral  with  Christie  McMertrie, 
''I'm  glad  to  see  that  Mark  Carter  has  a  little  proper  feel- 
ing at  last.  If  he'd  showed  it  sooner  his  ma  mighta  ben  in 
the  land  of  the  living  yet." 

Christie's  stern  face  grew  sterner  as  she  set  her  teeth 
and  bit  her  tongue  before  replying.  Then  she  said  with 
more  brrrr  than  usual  in  her  speech: 

Martha  Harricutt,  there's  na  land  that's  sa  livin'  as 
tha  land  where  Mark  Carter's  mither  has  ganged  tae,  but 
there's  them  that  has  mair  blame  to  bear  f  er  her  gaein'  than 
her  bonny  big  son,  I'm  thinkin',  an'  there's  them  in  this 
town  that  agrees  with  me  too,  I  know  full  well." 

Down  in  front  of  the  parsonage  the  minister  had  his 
arm  around  Mark  Carter's  shoulders  and  was  urging  him : 

"  Son,  come  in.  We  want  you.  Mother  wants  you,  I 
want  you.    Marilyn  wants  you.    Come  son,  come !  " 

But  Mark  steadily  refused,  his  eyes  downcast,  his  face 
sad,  withdrawn : 


312 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 


'*  Mr.  Severn,  I'll  come  to-morrow.  I  can't  come  to- 
night.   I  must  go  home  and  think !  " 

"  And  you  will  promise  me  you  will  not  leave  without 
coming,  Mark?  "  asked  the  minister  sadly  when  he  saw 
that  it  was  no  use. 

**  Yes,  I  will  promise ! "  Mark  wrung  the  minister's 
hand  in  a  warm  grip  that  said  many  things  he  could  not 
speak,  and  then  he  passed  on  to  his  lonely  home.  But  it 
was  not  entirely  empty.  Billy  was  there,  humbly,  silently, 
with  dog-true  eyes,  and  a  grown  up  patient  look  on  his 
tired  young  face.  He  had  the  coffee  pot  on  the  stove  and 
hot  sausages  cooking  on  the  stove,  and  a  lot  of  Saxy's 
doughnuts  and  a  pie  on  the  table.  Billy  stayed  all  night 
with  Mark.    He  knev^  Saxy  would  understand. 


XXVIII 


I .......,,, 

^"  Three  minutes  later  Mark  and  Billy  jyere  flying  down  the 
street,  with  Tom  McMertrie  and  Jim  Raiferty  close  aftei; 
and  a  host  of  other  tried  and  true,  with  the  minister  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street.  The  Fire  Company  of  Sabbath 
.Valley  held  a  proud  record,  and  the  minister  was  an  actiye 
member  of  it. 

The  fire  was  up  in  the  plush  mill  and  had  already 
spread  to  a  row  of  shackley  tenements  that  the  owners  of 
the  mills  had  put  up  to  house  the  foreign  labor  that  they 
had  put  in.  They  called  them  "  apartment  "  houses,  but 
they  were  so  much  on  the  order  of  the  city  tenements  of 
several  years  back  that  it  made  Lynn's  heart  ache  when 
she  went  there  to  see  a  little  sick  child  one  day.  Right  in 
the  midst  of  God's  trees  and  mountains,  a  man  for  money 
had  built  a  death  trap,  tall,  and  grim  and  dark,  with  small 
rooms  and  tiny  windows,  built  it  with  timbers  too  small 
for  safety,  and  windows  too  few  for  ventilation,  and  here 
an  increasing  number  of  families  were  herded,  in  spite  of 
the  complaints  of  the  town. 

"  I  ben  thenkin'  it  would  coom,"  said  Tom  as  he  took 
long  strides.  "  It's  the  apartmints  fer  sure,  Jimmy.  We 
better  beat  it.  There'll  be  only  a  meenit  er  so  to  get  the 
childer  oot,  before  the  whole  thing's  smoke ! " 

They  were  all  there,  the  doctor,  the  blacksmith,  the 
postmaster,  the  men  from  the  mills,  and  the  banks,  and  the 
stores.  Economy  heard  the  bells — for  Maril)rn  had  hur- 
ried to  the  church  and  added  the  fire  chime  to  the  call — and 
came  over  with  their  little  chemical  engine.  Monopoly 
heard  and  hurried  their  brand  new  hook  and  ladder  up  the 
valley  road,  but  the  fire  had  been  eating  long  in  the  heart 

313/ 


314  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

of  the  plush  mill  and  laughed  at  their  puny  streams  of 
water  forced  up  from  the  creek  below,  laughed  at  the 
chemicals  flung  in  its  face  like  drops  of  rain  on  a  sizzling 
red  hot  stove.  It  licked  its  lips  over  the  edge  of  the  cliff 
on  which  it  was  built,  and  cracked  its  jaws  as  it  devoured 
the  mill,  window  by  window,  section  by  section,  leaping 
across  with  an  angry  red  tongue  to  the  first  tall  building  by 
its  side. 

The  fire  had  worked  cunningly,  for  it  had  crept  out  of 
sight  to  the  lower  floors  all  along  the  row,  and  unseen,  un- 
known, had  bitten  a  hold  on  each  of  those  doomed  buildings 
till  when  the  men  arrived  it  went  roaring  ghoulishly  up  the 
high  narrow  stairs  cutting  off  all  escape  from  above,  and 
making  entrance  below  impossible.  Up  at  the  windows 
the  doomed  people  stood,  crying,  praying,  wringing  their 
hands,  and  some  losing  their  heads  and  trying  to  jump  out. 

The  firemen  were  brave,  and  worked  wonders.  They 
flung  up  ladders  in  the  face  of  the  flames.  They  risked 
their  lives  every  step  they  took,  and  brought  out  one  after 
another,  working  steadily,  grimly,  rapidly.  And  none 
were  braver  among  them  all  than  Mark  Carter  and  the, 
minister,  each  working  on  the  very  top  of  a  tall  treacherous 
ladder,  in  the  face  of  constant  danger,  bringing  out  on< 
after  another  until  the  last. 

The  next  house  to  the  mill  had  caved  in,  and  Mark  ha( 
come  down  just  in  time  with  an  old  woman  who  was  bed-S 
ridden  and  had  been  forgotten.  The  workers  had  pausec 
an  instant  as  the  horrible  sound  of  falling  timbers  rent 
through  the  other  noises  of  that  horrible  night,  and  thei 
hurried  to  increase  their  vigilance.  There  were  people  ii 
the  top  floor  of  the  next  house  and  it  would  go  next.  Thei 
the  word  went  forth  that  no  more  must  go  up  the  ladder^ 
The  roof  was  about  to  fall  in,  and  a  young  mother  shriekedj 
"My  baby!  My  baby!  She's  up  in  the  bed.  I  thought 
Bob  had  her,  but  he  couldn't  get  up !  "    Mark  Carter  looked 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  SlSh 

at  her  sharply.  *'  Which  window?  ^'  he  asked,  and  was  up 
the  ladder  before  detaining  hands  could  reach  him,  and 
Billy,  sliding  under  the  arm  of  the  Fire  Chief,  swung  up 
just  behind. 

The  crowd  watched  breathless  as  they  mounted  round 
after  round,  Aunt  Saxon  standing  with  a  shawl  over  her 
head  and  gasping  aloud,  "Oh  Willie!''  and  then  standing 
still  in  fear  and  pride,  the  tears  streaming  down  a  smiling 
countenance  on  which  the  red  glare  of  the  fire  shone.  The 
ladder  was  set  crazily  against  the  flaming  window  and 
swayed  with  their  weight.  Every  step  seemed  as  if  it 
would  topple  the  building,  yet  the  ladder  held,  and  Mark 
sprang  through  the  blazing  window  out  of  sight.  It 
seemed  an  eternity  till  he  returned  bringing  a  tiny  bundle 
with  him,  and  handing  it  out  to  Billy  waiting  below. 

The  boy  received  as  it  had  been  a  holy  honor,  that  lit- 
tle bundle  of  humanity  handed  through  the  fire,  and  came 
solemnly  down  amid  the  breathless  gaze  of  the  crowd,  but 
when  they  looked  to  the  top  again  Mark  had  disappeared ! 

A  murmur  of  horror  went  round  the  throng,  for  the 
flames  were  licking  and  snapping,  and  the  roof  seemed  to 
vibrate  and  quiver  like  a  human  thing.  Then  before  any 
one  could  stop  him.  or  even  saw  what  he  was  going  to  do, 
the  minister  sprang  forward  up  the  ladder  like  a  cat,  two 
rounds  at  a  time, — ^three !  He  dashed  through  the  fire  and 
was  gone! 

For  an  instant  it  seemed  that  the  people  would  go  mad 
with  the  horror  of  it.  Those  two!  Even  the  Fire  Chief 
paused  and  seemed  petrified.  It  was  Billy  who  sensed  the 
thing  to  do. 

"  Getcher  canvas  man?    Are  ya'  asleep ?  " 

And  instantly  a  great  piece  of  canvas  was  spread  and 
lifted.  But  the  building  tottered,  the  flames  ate  on,  and 
the  window  seemed  entirely  enveloped.  The  moment 
lasted  too  long  for  the  hearts  that  waited.    A  groan  rent 


316  THE  CITY  OF  FERE 

the  air.  Then  suddenly  a  breath  seemed  to  part  the  flames 
and  they  saw  the  minister  coming  forward  with  Mark  in 
his  arms! 

It  was  just  at  this  instant  that  Lynn  came  flying  down 
the  street.  She  had  kept  the  bells  going  till  she  knew  all 
the  help  had  come  from  a  distance,  and  now  she  was  com- 
ing to  see  if  there  was  anything  else  for  her  to  do.  There 
before  her  she  saw  her  father  standing  in  that  awful  set- 
ting of  fire,  with  Mark  limp  and  lifeless  in  his  arms !  Then 
the  flames  licked  up  and  covered  the  opening  once  more. 
Ohj  God!    Were  they  both  gone? 

Only  for  an  instant  more  the  suspense  lasted,  and  then 
the  cateclysm  of  fire  came.  The  roof  fell  carrying  with  it 
the  floors  as  it  went,  down,  down,  down,  shuddering  hke  a 
human  thing  as  it  went,  the  rain  of  fire  pouring  up  and 
around  in  great  blistering  flakes  and  scorching  the  on- 
lookers and  lighting  their  livid  faces  as  they  stood 
transfixed  with  horror  at  the  sight. 

The  canvas  fluttered  uselessly  down  and  fire  showered 
thick  upon  it.  Timbers  and  beams  crumbled  like  paper 
things  and  were  no  more.  The  whole  flimsy  structure 
had  caved  in ! 

Paralyzed  with  terror  and  sorrow  the  firemen  stood 
gazing,  and  suddenly  a  boy's  voice  rang  out :  "  Aw  Gee ! 
Git  to  work  there!  Whatterya  doin'?  Playin'  dominoes? 
Turn  that  hose  over  there!  That's  where  they  fell.  Say/j 
you  Jim,  get  that  fire  hook  and  lift  that  beam — !  Aw  Gee!\ 
Ya  ain't  gonta  let  'em  die,  are  ya, —  ?   Them  two! " 

Billy  had  seized  a  heavy  hose  and  was  turning  it  on  a  j 
central  spot  and  Jim  Rafferty  caught  the  idea  and  turned 
his  stream  that  way,  and  into  the  fire  went  the  brave  men, 
one  and  another,  instantly,  cheerfully,  devotedly,  the  men] 
who  loved  the  two  men  in  there.  Dead  or  alive  they  should 
be  got  out  if  it  killed  them  all.  They  would  all  die  together. 
The  Fire  Chief  stood  close  to  Billy,  and  shouted  his  direc- 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  317 

tlons,  and  Billy  worked  with  the  tallest  of  them,  black, 
hoarse  and  weary. 

It  seemed  ages.  It  was  hours.  It  was  a  miracle !  But  they 
got  those  two  men  out  alive !  Blackened  and  bruised  and 
broken,  burned  almost  beyond  recognition,  but  they  were 
alive.  They  found  them  lying  close  to  the  front  wall,  their 
faces  together,  Mark's  body  covered  by  the  minister's. 

Tender  hands  brought  them  forth  and  carried  them 
gently  on  stretchers  out  from  the  circle  of  danger  and 
noise  and  smoke.  Eagerly  they  were  ministered  to,  with 
oil  and  old  linen  and  stimulants.  There  were  doctors  from 
Economy  and  one  from  Monopoly  besides  the  Sabbath 
Valley  doctor,  who  was  like  a  brother  to  the  minister  and 
had  known  Mark  since  he  was  born.  They  worked  as  if 
their  lives  depended  upon  it,  till  all  that  loving  skill  could 
do  was  done. 

Billy,  his  eyelashes  and  brows  gone,  half  his  hair 
singed  off,  one  eye  swollen  shut  and  great  blisters  on  his 
hands  and  arms,  sat  huddled  and  shivering  on  the  ground 
between  the  two  stretchers.  The  fire  was  still  going  on 
but  he  was  "  all  in."  The  only  thing  left  he  could  do  was 
to  bow  his  bruised  face  on  his  trembling  knees  and  pray : 

''  Oh  God,  Ain't  You  gonta  let  'em  live — please! " 

They  carried  Mark  to  the  Saxon  cottage  and  laid  him 
on  Billy's  bed.  There  was  no  lack  of  nurses.  Aunt  Saxon 
and  Christie  McMertrie,  the  Duncannons  and  Mary 
Rafferty,  Jim  too,  and  Tom.  It  seemed  that  everybody 
claimed  the  honors.  The  minister  was  across  the  street 
in  the  Little  House.  They  dared  not  move  him  farther. 
Of  the  two  the  case  of  the  minister  was  the  most  hopeless. 
He  had 'borne  the  burden  of  the  fall.  He  had  been  struck 
by  the  falling  timbers,  his  body  had  been  a  cover  for 
the  younger  man.  In  every  way  the  minister  had  not 
saved  himself. 

The  days  that  followed  were  full  of  anxiety.    There 


318  THE  CITY  OF  FffiE 

were  a  few  others  more  or  less  injured  in  the  fire,  for  ther« 
had  been  fearless  work,  and  no  one  had  spared  himself^ 
But  the  two  who  hung  at  the  point  of  death  for  so  lonj 
were -laid  on  the  hearts  of  the  people,  because  they  wen 
dear  to  almost  every  one. 

Little  neighborhood  prayer  meetings  sprang  up  quietb 
here  and  there,  beginning  at  Duncannons.  The  neighbor  oi 
either  side  would  come  in  and  they  would  just  drop  do^ 
and  pray  for  the  minister,  and  for  "  that  other  dear  bra'^ 
brother."  Then  the  Littles  heard  of  it  and  called  in  a  fei 
friends.    One  night  when  both  sufferers  were  at  the  crisi! 
and  there  seemed  little  hope  for  the  minister,  Christie 
McMertrie  called  in  the  Raffertys  and  they  were  just  on 
the  point  of  kneehng  down  when  Mrs.  Harricutt  came  to 
the  door.     She  had  been  crying.     She  said  she  and  her 
husband  hadn't  slept  a  wink  the  night  before,  they  were 
so  anxious  for  the  minister.  Christie  looked  at  her  severely, 
but  remembering    the  commands  about  loving  and  for- 
giving, relented : 

"  Wull  then,  come  on  ben  an'  pray.  Tom,  you  go  call 
her  husband!  This  is  na  time  fer  holdin'  grudges.  But 
mind,  wumman,  if  ye  coom  heer  to  pray  ye  must  pray  with 
as  mooch  fervor  for  the  healin'  o'  Mark  Carter  as  ye  do 
fer  the  meenister !  He's  beloved  of  the  Lord  too,  an'  the 
meenister  nigh  give  his  life  for  him." 

And  Mrs.  Harricutt  put  up  her  apron  to  her  eyes  and 
entered  the  little  haircloth  parlor,  while  Tom,  with  a  wry 
face  went  after  the  elder.  The  elder  proved  that  under- 
neath all  his  narrowness  and  prejudice  he  had  a  grain  of 
the  real  truth,  for  he  prayed  with  fervor  that  the  Lord 
would  cleanse  their  hearts  from  all  prejudice  and  open  their 
minds  to  see  with  heavenly  vision  that  they  might  have 
power  in  prayer  for  the  healing  of  the  two  men. 

So,  through  the  whole  little  village  breaches  were 
healed,  and  a  more  loving  feeling  prevailed  because  the 


THE  CITY  OF  FIBE  81» 


0bo 


nd  of  anxiety  and  love  held  them  all  together  and  drew 
them  nearer  to  their  God. 

At  last  the  day  came  when  Mark,  struggling  up  out  of 
the  fiery  pit  of  pain,  was  able  to  remember. 

Pain,  fire,  flame,  choking  gases,  smoke,  remorse, 
despair !  It  was  all  vague  at  first,  but  out  of  it  came  the 
memory  slowly.  There  had  been  a  fire.  He  had  gone 
back  up  the  ladder  after  Mrs.  Blimm's  baby.  He  remem- 
bered groping  for  the  child  in  the  smoke  filled  room,  and 
bringing  it  blindly  through  the  hall  and  back  to  the  win- 
dow where  the  ladder  was,  but  that  room  had  all  been  in 
flames.  He  had  wished  for  a  wet  cloth  across  his  face. 
He  could  feel  again  the  licking  of  the  fire  as  he  passed  the 
doorway.  A  great  weight  had  been  on  his  chest.  His  heart 
seemed  bursting.  His  head  had  reeled,  and  he  had  come  to 
the  window  just  in  time.  Some  one  had  taken  the  child — 
was  it  Billy  ? — or  he  would  have  fallen.  He  did  fall.  The 
memory  pieced  itself  out  bit  by  bit.  He  remembered 
thinking  that  he  had  entered  the  City  of  Fire  literally  at 
last,  "the  minarets  "  already  he  seemed  to  descry  "gleam- 
ing vermilion  as  if  they  from  the  fire  had  issued."  It  was 
curious  how  those  old  words  from  Dante  had  clung  in  his 
memory.  "  Eternal  fire  that  inward  burns."  He  thought 
he  was  feeling  now  in  his  body  what  his  soul  had  ex- 
perienced for  long  months  past.  It  was  the  natural  ending, 
the  thing  he  had  known  he  was  coming  to  all  along,  the 
road  of  remorse  and  despair.  A  fire  that  goes  no  more 
out !  And  this  would  last  forever  now !  Then,  someone, 
some  strong  arm  had  lifted  him — God's  air  swept  in — ^and 
for  an  instant  there  seemed  hope.  But  only  that  little 
breath  of  respite  and  there  came  a  cry  Hke  myriads  of  lost 
souls.  They  were  falling,  falling,  down  through  fire,  with 
fire  above,  below,  around,  everywhere.  Down,  down, — 
an  abysmal  eternity  of  fire,  till  his  seared  soul  writhed 


S20  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

from  his  tortured   body,   and  stood   aside   looking 
at  himself. 

There,  there  he  lay,  the  Mark  Carter  that  had  started' 
with  life  so  fair,  friends,  prospects,  so  proud  that  he  was 
a  man,  that  he  could  conquer  and  be  brave — so  blest  with' 
opening  life,  and  heaven^s  high  call!  And  then — in  one 
day — he  had  sinned  and  lost  it  all,  and  there  he  lay,  a  white 
upturned  face.  That  was  himself,  lying  there  with  face 
illumined  by  the  fire,  and  men  would  call  him  dead !  But 
he  would  not  be  dead !  He  would  be  living  on  with  that 
inward  fire,  gnawing  at  his  vitals,  telling  him  continually 
what  he  might  have  been,  and  showing  him  what  high 
heaven  was  that  he  had  had,  and  lost.  He  saw  it  now.  He 
had  deliberately  thrown  away  that  heaven  that  had  been^ 
his.  He  saw  that  hell  was  hell  because  he  made  it  so,  it 
was  not  God  that  put  him  there,  but  he  had  chosen  thei 
to  go.  And  still  the  fire  burned  on  and  scorched  his  pool 
soul  back  into  the  body  to  be  tortured  more.  The  lot 
weeks  upon  that  bed  seemed  like  an  infinite  space  of  burn- 
ing rosy,  oily  flames  poured  upward  from  a  lake  of  fire, 
down  through  which  he  had  been  falling  in  constant  an< 
increasing  agony. 

And  now  at  last  he  seemed  to  be  flung  upon  this  peace- 
ful shore  where  things  were  cool  and  soothing  for  a  briei 
respite,  that  he  might  look  off  at  where  he  had  been  float- 
ing on  that  molten  lake  of  fire,  and  understand  it  all  befon 
he  was  flung  back.    And  it  was  all  so  very  real.    With  hij 
eyes  still  closed  he  could  hear  the  rushing  of  the  flamei 
that  still  seemed  ascending  in  columns  out  a  little  way  f  roi 
shore,  he  could  see  through  his  eyelids  the  rosy  hue  of  livi( 
waters — of  course  it  was  all  a  hallucination,  and  he  was 
coming  to  himself,  but  he  had  a  feeling  that  when  he  was 
fully  awake  it  would  be  even  more  terrible  than  now.  Tw( 
grim  figures.  Remorse  and  Despair,  seemed  waiting  atj 
either  hand  above  his  bed  to  companion  him  again  whei 
he  could  get  more  strength  to  recognize  them,    And  so 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  321 

lay  thus  between  life  and  death,  and  faced  what  he  had 
done.  Hours  and  hours  he  faced  it,  when  they  knew  not 
if  he  was  conscious  yet,  going  over  and  over  again  those 
sins  which  he  knew  had  been  the  beginning  of  all  his  walk 
away  from  Hope.  On  through  the  night  and  into  the 
next  morning  he  lay  thus,  sometimes  drowsing,  but  most 
of  the  time  alert  and  silent. 

It  was  a  bright  and  sparkling  morning.  There  was  a 
tang  of  winter  in  the  air.  The  leaves  were  gone  from  the 
apple  trees  at  the  window  and  the  bare  branches  tapped 
against  the  water  spout  like  children  playing  with  a  rattle. 
A  dog  barked  joyously,  and  a  boy  on  the  street  shouted  out 
to  another — Oh,  to  be  a  boy  once  more!  And  suddenly 
Mark  knew  Billy  was  sitting  there.  He  opened  his  eyes 
and  smiled:  There  were  bandages  around  his  face,  but 
he  smiled  stiffly,  and  Billy  knew  he  was  smiling. 

"  Kid,"  he  said  hoarsely  from  out  the  bandages,  "  This 
is  God's  world.'*  It  seemed  to  be  a  great  thought  that  he 
had  been  all  this  time  grasping,  and  had  to  utter. 

"  Sure !  "  said  Billy  in  a  low  happy  growl. 

A  long  time  after  this,  it  might  have  been  the  next  day, 
he  wasn't  sure,  or  perhaps  only  a  few  minutes,  he  came  at 
another  truth: 

"Kid,  you  can't  get  away  from  God— even  when  you  try." 

"I'll  say  not,"  said  Billy. 

"  But — ^when  you've  sinned — !  "  speculatively. 
"  You  gotta  get  it  off  yer  chest." 

"  You  mean — confess?  " 

"  Sure  thing.  Miss  Lynn  tells  us  in  Sunday  School 
about  a  fella  in  the  Bible  got  downta  eatin'  with  the  pigs 
in  a  far  country,  an'  when  he  come  to  himself  he  thought 
about  his  father's  servants,  an'  he  said  '  I'll  get  up  and 
beat  it  home  an'  say  I'm  sorry ! '  " 

"I  know,"  said  Mark,  and  was  still  the  rest  of  the  day. 
But  the  next  morning  he  asked  the  doctor  how  soon  he 
might  get  up.    This  was  the  first  real  indication  that  Mark 

21 


sn  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

was  on  the  mend,  and  the  doctor  smiled  with  satisfaction. 
He  meant  to  take  off  some  of  the  bandages  that  morning. 

That  afternoon  with  his  head  unswathed,  Mark  began 
to  ask  questions.  Before  that  he  had  seemed  to  take  every- 
thing for  granted : 

"Billy,  whereas  the  minister?'*  For  Billy  have  never 
left  his  idol's  side  except  when  Aunt  Saxon  needed  him 
to  help. 

"Oh,  he's  up  to  tha  parsonage,"  responded  Billy 
carelessly. 

"  But  why  hasn't  he  been  to  see  me,  Kid?  " 

"  Why — he — hasn't  been  feelin'  very  good."  Billy's 
voice  was  brisk  as  if  it  wasn't  a  matter  of  much  moment. 

Mark  turned  his  thoughtful  gray  eyes  steadily  on  Billy : 

"  Now,  look  here,  Kid,  I'm  well,  and  there's  no  further 
need  to  camouflage.    Billy,  is  the  minister  dead?  " 

"  Not  on  yer  tin  type,  he  ain't  dead  1 " 

"Well,  is  he  hurt?" 

"  Well,  some"  Billy  admitted  cheerfully. 

"  Kid,  look  me  in  the  eye." 

Billy  raised  a  saucy  eye  as  well  masked  as  Mark's  own 
could  be  on  occasion. 

"  Kid,  how  much  is  he  hurt!  Tell  me  the  truth!  If 
you  don't  I'll  get  right  up  and  go  and  see." 

"  I'll  tell  the  world,  you  won't !  "  said  Billy  rising  lazily 
and  taking  a  gentle  menacing  step  toward  the  bed. 

"Kid!" 

"  Well — he's  some  hurt — ^but  he's  getting  along  finei 
now.    He'll  be  aw'wright." 

"How'd  he  get  hurt?" 

"  Oh,  the  fire,  same's  you." 

"How?  "insisted  Mark. 

"  Oh,  he  went  up  again  after  a  fella  when  it  was 
too  late—" 

"Billy,  was  it  me?'' 

"Ugh  huh  I"  nodded  Billy. 


THE  CITY  OF  FIBE  323 

Mark  was  so  still  that  Billy  was  frightened.  When  he 
looked  up  worried  he  saw  that  a  great  tear  had  escaped 
out  from  under  the  lashes  which  were  growing  nicely  now, 
and  had  rolled  down  Mark's  cheek.    Mark  crying! 

In  consternation  Billy  knelt  beside  the  bed: 

**  Aw  Gee !  Mark,  now  don't  you  feel  like  that.  He's 
gettin'  all  right  now  they  hope,  an'  Gee!  He  was  great  I 
You  oughtta  seen  him !  " 

"  Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Mark  huskily. 

"  He  just  ran  up  that  there  ladder  when  it  was  shaking 
like  a  leaf,  an'  the  wall  beginning  to  buckle  under  it,  an'  he 
picked  you  up.  Fer  a  minute  there  the  flames  kinda  blew 
back,  and  we  seen  ya  both,  and  then  the  roof  caved,  an' 
you  all  went  down.  But  when  we  gotcha  out  he  was  layin' 
right  atop  of  ya,  'ith  his  arms  spread  out,  trying  t'cover 
ya!  Gee,  it  was  great!  Everybody  was  just  as  still,  like 
he  was  preachin' !  " 

After  a  long  time  Mark  said : 

"  Billy,  did  you  ever  hear  the  words,  '  Greater  love 
hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for 
his  friend?"' 

"  Yep,"  said  Billy,  "  That's  in  the  Bible  I  think,  if 
'taint  in  Shakespeare.  Miss  Lynn  said  it  over  last  Sunday. 
She  says  a  lot  of  things  from  Shakespeare  sometimes,  and 
I  kinda  get'em  mixed." 

But  Mark  did  not  talk  any  more  that  day.  He  had  a 
great  deal  to  think  about. 

But  so  did  Billy,  for  looking  out  the  window  in  the 
direction  of  the  parsonage  he  had  sighted  the  big  Shafton 
car  stopping  before  the  door  that  morning.  "  Aw  Gee  1 " 
he  said.  "  That  sissy-guy  again  ?  "  Now,  how'm  I  gonta 
get  rid  of  him  this  time  ?  Gee  I  Just  when  Mark's  gettin' 
well  tool    If  life  ain't  just  one  thing  after  another!  *' 


XXIX 

It  was  a  bright  frosty  morning  in  the  edge  of  winter 
when  at  last  they  let  Mark  go  to  see  the  minister,  and  Billy 
took  care  that  no  hint  of  the  Shafton  car  should  reach  his 
knowledge.  Slowly,  gravely  he  escorted  Mark  down  the 
street  and  up  the  parsonage  steps. 

The  minister  was  lying  on  a  couch  in  the  living  room 
and  there  was  a  low^  chair  drawn  up  near  by  with  a  book 
open  at  the  place,  and  a  bit  of  fluffy  sewing  on  the  low  table 
beside  it.  Mark  looked  hungrily  about  for  the  owner  of 
the  gold  thimble,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  either  Mrs. 
Severn  or  Marilyn  about. 

There  was  a  bandage  over  the  minister's  eyes.  They 
hadn't  told  Mark  about  that  yet. 

The  minister  held  out  a  groping  hand  with  his  old  sweet 
smile  and  hearty  welcoming  voice : 

"  Well,  son,  you've  come  at  last !  Beat  me  to  it,  didn't 
you?    I'm  glad.    That  was  fair.    Young  blood  you  know." 

Mark  knelt  down  by  the  couch  with  his  old  friend's  hand 
held  fast :  Billy  had  faded  into  the  landscape  out  on  the 
front  steps  somewhere,  and  was  even  now  settling  down  for 
an  extended  wait.  If  this  interview  went  well  he  might 
hope  to  get  a  little  rest  and  catch  up  on  sports  sometime 
soon.    It  all  depended  on  this. 

Mark  put  up  his  other  hand  and  touched  the  bandage : 

"Father!"  he  said,  "Father!"  and  broke  down 
"  Father,  I  have  sinned — "  he  said  brokenly. 

The  minister's  arm  went  lovingly  up  across  the  young 
man's  shoulders : 

"  Son,  have  you  told  your  heavenly  Father  that  ?  "  he 
asked  gently. 

"  I've  tried,"  said  Mark,  "  I'm  not  sure  that  He  heard." 
dS4 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  325 

"  Oh,  He  heard''  said  the  minister  with  a  ring  of  joy- 
in  his  voice,  "  While  you  were  a  great  way  off  He  came  to 
meet  you,  son.'* 

**  You  don't  know  yet,"  said  Mark  lifting  a  white 
sad  face — " 

"If  you've  told  Him  I'll  trust  you  son.  It's  up  to  you 
whether  you  tell  me  or  not." 

"  It  is  your  right  to  know,  sir.  I  want  you  to  know.  I 
cannot  rest  again  until  you  do." 

"  Then  tell."  The  minister's  hand  folded  down  ten- 
derly over  the  boy's,  and  so  kneeling  beside  the  couch  Mark 
told  his  story: 

"  I  must  begin  by  telling  you  that  I  have  always 
loved  Marilyn." 

"  I  know,"  said  the  minister,  with  a  pressure  on  the 
hand  he  covered. 

"  One  day  I  heard  someone  telling  Mrs.  Severn  that  I 
was  not  good  enough  for  her :  " 

"  I  know,"  said  the  minister  again. 

"  You  know  ?  "  said  Mark  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  go  on." 

"  I  went  away  and  thought  it  over.  I  felt  as  if  I  would 
die.  I  was  mad  and  hurt  clear  through,  but  after  I 
thought  it  over  I  saw  that  all  she  had  said  was  true.  I 
wasn't  good  enough.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  pride 
mixed  with  it  all  of  course,  I've  seen  that  since,  but  I  wasn't 
good  enough.  Nobody  was.  Lynn  is, — wonderful — / 
But  I  was  just  a  common,  insignificant  nobody,  not  fit  to 
be  her  mate.  I  knew  it !  I  could  see  just  how  things  were 
going  too.  I  saw  you  didn't  realize  it,  you  nor  Mrs.  Severn. 
I  knew  Marilyn  cared,  but  I  thought  she  didn't  realize  it 
either,  and  I  saw  it  was  up  to  me.  If  she  wasn't  to  have 
to  suffer  by  being  parted  from  me  when  she  grew  older,  I 
must  teach  her  not  to  care  before  she  knew  she  cared.  For 
days  I  turned  it  over  in  my  mind.     Many  nights  I  lay 


326  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

awake  all  night  or  walked  out  on  the  hills,  threshing  it 
all  over  again.  And  I  saw  another  thing.  I  saw  that  if  it 
was  so  hard  for  me  then  when  I  was  not  much  more  than 
a  kid  it  would  be  harder  for  her  if  Ilet  her  grow  up  caring, 
and  then  we  had  to  be  parted,  so  I  decided  to  make  the 
break.  The  day  I  made  the  decision  I  went  off  in  the  hills 
and  stayed  all  day  thinking  it  out.  And  then  I  looked  up 
in  the  sky  and  told  God  I  was  done  with  Him.  I  had 
prayed  and  prayed  that  He  would  make  a  way  out  of  this 
trouble  for  me,  and  He  hadn^t  done  anything  about  it,  and 
I  felt  that  He  was  against  me  too.  So  when  I  had  done 
that  I  felt  utterly  reckless.  I  didn't  care  what  happened  to 
me,  and  I  decided  to  go  to  the  bad  as  fast  as  I  could.  I  felt  it 
would  be  the  best  way  too  to  make  Marilyn  get  over  being 
fond  of  me.  So  I  went  down  to  Monopoly  that  night  and 
looked  up  a  fellow  that  had  been  coaching  the  teams  for  a 
while  and  was  put  out  by  the  association  because  he  was 
rotten.  He  had  always  made  a  fuss  over  me,  wanted  to 
make  a  big  player  out  of  me,  and  I  knew  he  would  be  glad 
to  see  me. 

"  He  was.  He  took  me  out  to  supper  that  night  and 
gave  me  liquor  to  drink.  You  know  I  had  never  touched 
a  drop.  Never  had  intended  to  as  long  as  I  lived.  But 
when  he  offered  it  to  me  I  took  it  down  as  if  I  had  been 
used  to  it.  I  didn't  care.  I  wanted  to  do  all  the  wrong 
I  could. 

"  I  drank  again  and  again,  and  I  must  have  got  pretty 
drunk.  I  remember  the  crowd  laughed  at  me  a  great  deal. 
And  they  brought  some  girls  around.  It  makes  me  sick  to 
think  of  it  now.  We  went  to  a  place  and  danced.  I  didn't 
know  how,  but  I  danced  anyway.  And  there  was  more 
drinking.  I  don't  remember  things  very  distinctly.  I  did 
whatever  the  coach  said,  and  he  had  been  going  a  pretty 
good  pace  himself. — That  night — !"  His  voice  choked 
with  shame  and  it  seemed  as  though  he  could  not  go  on— ^ 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRB  327 

but  the  minister's  clasp  was  steady  and  the  boy  gathered 
courage  and  went  on —  "  That  night — we — ^went — to  a 
house  of  shame — !  " 

He  dropped  his  head  and  groaned.  The  minister  did 
not  attempt  to  break  the  pause  that  followed.  He  knew 
the  struggle  that  was  going  on  in  the  bitterness  of  the 
yoimg  man's  soul.    He  maintained  that  steady  hand  clasp : 

"  In  the  morning — ^when  I  came  to  myself — "  he  went 
on  "  I  knew  what  I  had  done.  I  had  cut  myself  off  forever 
from  all  that  made  life  worth  while.  I  would  never  be 
worthy  again  to  even  speak  to  you  all  whom  I  loved  so 
much.  I  would  never  be  able  to  look  myself  in  the  face 
again  even.  I  was  ashamed.  I  had  given  up  God  and  love, 
and  everything  worth  while. 

"  That  was  when  I  went  away  to  New  York.  Mother 
tried  to  stop  me,  but  I  would  go.  I  tried  when  I  got  to 
New  York  to  plunge  into  a  wild  life,  but  it  didn't  attract 
me.  I  had  to  force  myself.  Besides,  I  had  resolved  that 
whatever  came,  wherever  I  went  I  would  not  drink  and  I 
would  keep  clean.  I  thought  that  by  so  doing  I  might  in 
time  at  least  win  back  my  self  respect.  Later  I  conceived 
the  idea  of  trying  to  save  others  from  a  life  of  shame.  I 
did  succeed  in  helping  some  to  better  ways  I  think,  both 
men  and  girls.  But  I  only  won  a  worse  reputation  at  home 
for  it,  and  I'm  not  sure  I  did  much  good.  I  only  know  I 
walked  in  hell  from  morning  to  night,  and  in  time  I  came 
to  dwell  among  lost  souls.  It  seemed  the  only  place  that 
I  belonged. 

"  You  remember  when  you  read  us  Dante  *  Thou  who 
through  the  City  of  Fire  alive  art  passing'  ?  You  used  tG 
preach  in  church  about  beginning  the  eternal  life  now,  and 
making  a  Httle  heaven  below,  I'm  sure  that  is  as  true  of 
hell.  I  began  my  eternal  life  five  years  ago,  but  it  was  in 
hell,  and  I  shall  go  on  living  in  that  fire  of  torture  forever, 
apart  from  all  I  love.    I  tried  to  get  out  by  doing  good  to 


328  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

others,  but  it  was  of  no  avail.  I  thought  never  to  tell  you 
this,  but  something  made  me,  after  you — you  gave  your 
Hfe  forme — !" 

"  And  had  you  forgotten,"  said  the  minister  tenderly, 
"  That  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  His  Son  cleanseth  us 
from  all  sin?  And  that  he  said,  *  Come  now  and  let  us 
reason  together.  Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet  they  shall 
be  as  white  as  snow  ?  *  " 

"  I  gave  up  all  right  to  that  when  I  gave  up  God  on 
the  mountain." 

**  But  God  did  not  give  up  you,"  said  the  minister. 
"  Do  you  think  a  true  father  would  cast  out  a  child  because 
it  got  angry  and  shook  its  fist  in  his  face  ?  You  will  find 
Him  again  when  you  search  for  Him  with  all  your  heart. 
You  have  told  Him  you  were  sorry,  and  He  has  promised 
to  forgive.  You  can't  save  yourself,  but  He  can  save  you. 
Now,  son,  go  and  tell  Marilyn  everything." 

"  Do  you  mean  it, — Father?  " 

"  I  mean  it — Son,  The  doctor  is  coming  by  and  by  to 
take  off  these  bandages,  and  I  want  the  first  thing  that  my 
eyes  rest  upon  after  my  dear  wife's  face,  to  be  the  faces 
of  you  two.    My  beloved  children." 

Sabbath  Valley  lay  tucked  warm  and  white  beneatH  a 
blanket  of  snow.  All  the  week  it  had  been  coming  down, 
down,  in  great  white  flakes  of  especially  sorted  sizes,  filling 
the  air  mightily  with  winter  clean  and  deep.  Here  in  the 
fastnesses  of  the  hills  it  seemed  that  the  treasure  troves  of 
the  sky  had  been  opened  to  make  all  beautiful  and  quiet 
while  winter  passed  that  way.  Lone  Valley  was  almost 
obliterated,  pierced  with  sharp  pine  trees  in  bunches  here 
and  there,  like  a  flock  of  pins  in  a  pincushion,  and  the  hills 
rose  gently  on  either  side  like  a  vast  amphitheatre  done  in 
white  and  peopled  thick  with  trees  in  heavy  white  furs. 

The  Highway  was  almost  impassable  for  a  day  or  two, 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  329 

but  the  state  snow  plow  passed  over  as  soon  as  the  snow 
stopped  falling,  and  left  a  white  pavement  with  white  walls 
either  side.  The  tunnel  through  the  mountains  was  only 
a  black  dot  in  the  vast  whiteness,  and  Pleasant  View  Sta- 
tion wore  a  heavy  cap  of  snow  dripping  down  in  lavish 
fringes  edged  with  icicles.  The  agent's  little  shanty  up 
the  mountain  was  buried  out  of  sight  behind  a  snow  drift 
and  had  to  be  dug  out  from  the  back,  and  no  Lake  Train 
ran  any  more.  The  express  was  five  hours  late.  Stark 
Mountain  loomed  white  against  the  sky.  And  over  in 
Sabbath  Valley  the  night  it  stopped  snowing  all  the  vil- 
lagers were  out  shovelling  their  walks  and  calling  glad 
nothings  back  and  forth  as  they  flung  the  white  star  dust 
from  their  shovels,  and  little  children  came  out  with  rubber 
boots  and  warm  leggings  and  wallowed  in  the  beauty.  The 
milkman  got  out  an  old  sleigh  and  strung  a  line  of  bells 
around  his  horse.  The  boys  and  girls  hurried  up  the 
mountain  to  their  slide  with  home  made  sleds  and  laughing 
voices,  and  the  moon  came  up  looking  sweetly  from  a  sud- 
den clearing  sky. 

Over  in  the  church  the  windows  shone  with  light, 
and  the  bells  were  ringing  out  the  old  sweet  songs  the 
villagers  loved.  Marilyn  was  at  the  organ  and  Mark 
by  her  side.  In  the  body  of  the  church  willing  hands 
were  working,  setting  up  the  tall  hemlocks  that  Tom  and 
Jim  had  brought  in  from  the  mountain,  till  the  little  church 
was  fragrant  and  literally  lined  with  lacey  beauty,  remind- 
ing one  of  ancient  worship  in  the  woods.  Holly  wreaths 
were  hanging  in  the  windows  everywhere,  and  ropes  of 
ground  pine  and  laurel  festooned  from  every  pillar  and 
comer  and  peak  of  roof. 

Laurie  Shafton  had  sent  a  great  coffer  of  wonderful 
roses,  and  the  country  girls  were  handling  them  with  awe, 
banking  them  round  the  pulpit,  and  trailing  them  over  the 


S30  THE  CITY  OF  FIRE 

rail  of  the  little  choir  loft,  wonderful  roses  from  another 
world,  the  world  that  Marilyn  Severn  might  have  married 
into  if  she  had  chosen.  And  there  sat  Marilyn  as  indif- 
ferent as  if  they  were  dandelions,  praising  the  trees  that 
had  been  set  up,  delighting  in  their  slender  tops  that  rose 
like  miniature  spires  all  round  the  wall,  drawing  in  the 
sweetness  of  their  winter  spicy  breath,  and  never  saying  a 
word  about  the  roses.  "  Roses?  Oh,  yes,  they  look  all 
right.  Girls,  just  put  them  wherever  you  fancy.  I'll  be 
suited.    But  aren't  those  trees  too  beautiful  for  words?  " 

When  the  work  was  done  they  trooped  out  noisily  into 
the  moonlight,  bright  like  day  only  with  a  beauty  that  was 
almost  unearthly  in  its  radiance.  The  others  went  on  down 
the  street  calling  gay  words  back  and  forth,  but  Mark  and 
Marilyn  lingered,  bearing  a  wreath  of  laurel,  and  stepping 
deep  into  the  whiteness  went  over  to  the  white  piled  mound 
where  they  had  laid  Mrs.  Carter's  body  to  rest  and  Mark 
stooped  down  and  pressed  the  wreath  down  into  the  snow 
upon  the  top: 

"  Dear  little  mother,"  he  said  brokenly,  "  She  loved 
pretty  things  and  I  meant  to  give  her  so  many  of  them 
sometime  to  make  up — " 

*'  But  she'll  be  glad—"  said  Marilyn  softly,  "  We  loved 
each  other  very  much — !  " 

"  Yes,  she'll  be  glad !  "  he  answered.  "  She  often  tried 
to  find  out  why  I  never  went  to  the  parsonage  any  more. 
Poor  little  mother!  That  was  her  deepest  disappoint- 
ment— !  Yes,  she'll  be  glad — !  " 

When  morning  came  it  seemed  as  though  the  very 
glory  of  God  was  spread  forth  on  Sabbath  Valley  for  dis- 
play. There  it  lay,  a  shining  gem  of  a  little  white  town, 
in  the  white  velvet  cup  of  the  Valley,  dazzling  and 
i-esplendent,  the  hills  rising  round  about  reflecting  more 
brightness  and  etched  with  fringes  of  fine  branches  each 


THE  CITY  OF  FUtE  8S1 

burdened  with  a  line  of  heavy  furry  white.  Against  the 
clear  blue  sky  the  bell  tower  rose,  and  from  its  arches  the 
bells  ^ng  forth  a  wedding  song.  Marilyn  in  her  white 
robes,  with  a  long  white  veil  of  rare  old  lace  handed  down 
through  the  generations,  falling  down  the  back  and 
fastened  about  her  forehead,  and  with  a  slim  little  rope  of 
pearls,  also  an  heirloom,  was  ringing  her  own  wedding 
bells,  with  Mark  by  her  side,  while  the  villagers  gathered 
outside  the  door  waiting  for  the  wedding  march  to  begin 
before  they  came  in. 

The  minister  and  his  wife  stood  back  in  his  little  study 
behind  the  pulpit,  watching  their  two  with  loving  eyes,  and 
down  by  the  front  door  stood  Billy  in  a  new  suit  with  his 
hair  very  wet  and  Hcked  back  from  an  almost  crimson 
countenance,  waiting  the  word  to  fling  open  the  door  and 
let  the  congregation  in. 

"  Turn,  diddyc/ww — Diddydum — diddyc?Mi« — ^Diddy- 
dum  —  diddydum  —  Diddydum  — ►  dum  —  dum  —  Dum 
• — Dum — Dum ! "  began  the  organ  and  Billy  flung  the 
portals  wide  and  stood  aside  on  the  steps  to  let  the 
throng  pass  in,  his  eyes  shining  as  if  they  would  say,  "  Aw 
Gee!  AinT  this  great?" 

And  just  at  that  moment,  wallowing  through  the  snow, 
with  the  air  of  having  come  from  the  North  Pole  there 
arrived  a  great  car  and  drew  up  to  the  door,  and  Laurie 
Shaft  on  jumped  anxiously  out  and  flung  open  the  door 
for  his  passengers. 

"Aw  Gee!  That  Fish!  Whadde  wantta  come  here 
for?    The  great  chump!    Don't  he  know  he  ain't  in  it?  " 

Billy  watched  in  lofty  scorn  from  his  high  step  and 
decided  to  hurry  in  and  not  have  to  show  any  honors  to 
that  sissy-guy. 

Then  out  from  the  car  issued  Opal,  done  in  furs  from 
brow  to  shoe  and  looking  eagerly  about  her,  and  following 
her  a  big  handsome  sporty  man  almost  twice  her  age. 


332  THE  CrrY  OF  FERE 

looking  curiously  interested,  as  if  he  had  come  to  a  shrine 
to  worship,  Opal's  husband.  Billy  stared,  and  then  re- 
membering that  the  wedding  march  was  almost  over  and 
that  he  might  be  missing  something: 

"  Aw,  Gee !  Whadduw  I  care  ?  He  ain't  little  apples 
now,  anyhow.  He  couldn'ta  bought  her  with  barrels  of 
roses,  an'  he  knows  it  too,  the  poor  stiff.  He  must  be  a 
pretty  good  scout  after  all,  takin'  his  medicine  straight! " 

Then  Billy  slid  in  and  the  quiet  little  ceremony  began. 

The  organ  hushed  into  nothing.  Marilyn  arose,  took 
Mark's  arm,  and  together  they  stepped  down  and  stood  in 
front  of  the  minister,  who  had  come  down  the  steps  of  the 
pulpit  and  was  awaiting  them,  with  Marilyn's  mother  sit- 
ting only  a  step  away  on  the  front  seat. 

It  was  all  so  quiet  and  homey,  without  fuss  or  march- 
ing or  any  such  thing,  and  when  the  ceremony  was  over 
the  bride  and  groom  turned  about  in  front  of  the  bank  of 
hemlock  and  roses  and  their  friends  swarmed  up  to  con- 
gratulate them.  Then  everybody  went  into  the  parsonage, 
where  the  ladies  of  the  church  had  prepared  a  real  country 
wedding  breakfast  with  Christmas  turkey  and  fixings  for 
a  foundation  and  going  on  from  that.  It  wasn't  every  day 
in  the  year  that  Sabbath  Valley  got  its  minister's  daughter 
married,  and  what  if  the  parsonage  was  small  and  only 
fifty  could  sit  down  at  once,  everybody  was  patient,  and 
it  was  all  the  more  fun ! 

The  three  guests  from  out  of  town,  self  imposed, 
looked  on  with  wonder  and  interest.  It  was  a  revelation. 
Marilyn  looked  up  and  found  big  Ed  Verrons  frankly 
staring  at  her,  a  puzzled  pleased  expression  on  his  large 
coarse  face.  She  was  half  annoyed  and  wondered  why 
they  had  come  to  spoil  this  perfect  day.  Then  suddenly  the 
big  man  stepped  across  the  little  living  room  and  spoke : 

"  Mrs.  Carter,  we  came  over  to-day  because  Opal  said 
you  had  something  that  would  help  us  begin  over  again  and 


THE  CITY  OF  FIRE  83S 

make  life  more  of  a  success.  I  want  to  thank  you  for 
having  this  chance  to  see  a  little  bit  of  heaven  on  earth 
before  I  die." 

Later,  when  the  city  guests  were  fed  and  comforted 
perhaps,  and  had  climbed  back  into  the  big  car,  Billy  stood 
on  the  front  porch  with  a  third  helping  of  ice  cream  and 
watched  them  back,  and  turn,  and  wallow  away  into  the 
deep  white  world,  and  his  heart  was  touched  with  pity : 

"  Aw,  Gee !  The  poor  fish !  I  'spose  it  is  hard  lines ! 
And  then  it  was  sorta  my  faultchu  know,"  and  he  turned 
with  a  joyful  sigh  that  they  were  gone,  and  went  in  to  look 
again  at  Mary  Louise  Little,  and  see  what  it  was  about  her 
in  that  new  blue  challis  that  made  her  look  so  sorta 
nice  to-day. 


"The  Booh  You  Like  to  Read 
cd  the  Price  You  Like  to  Pay" 


There  Are  Two  Sides 
to  Everything — 

— including  the  wrapper  which  covers 
every  Grosset  &  Dunlap  book.  When 
you  feel  in  the  mood  for  a  good  ro- 
mance, refer  to  the  carefully  selected  list 
of  modern  fiction  comprising  most  of 
the  successes  by  prominent  writers  of 
the  day  which  is  printed  on  the  back  of 
every  Grosset  &  Dunlap  book  wrapper. 

You  will  find  more  than  five  hundred 
titles  to  choose  from — books  for  every 
mood  and  every  taste  and  every  pocket- 
book. 

Don't  forget  the  other  side,  but  in  case 
the  ivrapper  is  lost,  write  to  the  publishers 
for  a  complete  catalog. 


There  w  a  Crouet  Cd  Dunlap  Book 
for  eoerj  rrtood  and  for  every  taste 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 
on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  arc 


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ICIF(N) 


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LD  21A-50w-12,'60 
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General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


yB  3294 


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